The Land of Vice ACT ONE
by Bottle Rocket Junkie
Summary: Fido from GTA3 visits his Uncle Tommy in Vice city and ends up starting a war between him and an old aqauintance. COMPLETED First part in a 3 part series.
1. Default Chapter

Liberty city: The new reign.  
  
A/n: I don't own gta3 rockstar owns them blah blah blah. Also I may have gotten the Yardie kingpin name messed up. Oh and the spelling sucks cuz I wrote this crap on MS wordpad. R&R plz.  
  
Chapter one: Liberty city is up for grabs.  
  
I kept the muzzle of my Remington 870 tight against King Courtney's forehead. I stood towering above the trembling Yardie leader on a deck place 60 ft above the stone ridden beach below. In the living room to my left layed about 15 Yardie gang members among AK and Uzi casings. Bullet holes smoked newly in the French glass doors. King Courtney flicked his cigarette over the edge and stood up from his slouched position against the wall. He spoke in his thick Jamaican accent I had heard over the pay phone many times.  
  
" Why mon? Why?" He asked with pleading eyes.  
  
"Let's see if spank can stop buckshot." I said coldly.  
  
With one pull of a trigger I ejected a round of shot pellet into the king's head. His forehead shot off he slumped to the deck's floor spraying blood every wear speckling my kevlar vest. I sighed and wiped of my vest. Racking another shell into the shotgun I turned to the living room.  
  
I am Michael Vercetti. I was mentioned on CNN a couple of times. The Vercetti's are well known in the Crime world. My uncle Tommy Vercetti had Liberated Vice city from the Cuban stronghold in '86. Good year unless you count the bad hair and clothes. How'd I end up in a situation like this? Well about a month ago my girlfriend and some Hispanic hick tried knocking over a bank in Carser City. Crappy town might I add. Well it was a success but that backstabber shot me in the shoulder and sent me up the river for a good 7+ years. When I was being transported through Liberty City to the state penitentiary along with this Cuban drug lord and bomb maker our convoy was attacked. Probably some old friends or fiends of the Cuban. Well financed too due to the fact that they were totting M16A2's. So the blow up the bridge between Portland and Stanton Island, Luckily the bomb maker and me get away who I find out his name is 8 ball. So anyway for a week I work for the Mafia. Eventually I meet Maria Salvador Leone's (Mafia Don) wife and I end up sleeping with her. Big mistake because the Don finds out and tries to kill me. I escape to Stanton with Maria and end up working for some Japanese gang called the Yakuza. They hire me to kill the Don and break my Mafia ties. I do so; a shot to the back of the head with an AK killed the rat bastard. My reputation must have spread pretty quick because I al so do some odd jobs working for the Yardies which I had to Kill Kenji, Asuka's brother (she runs the Yakuza.) Well they figured it was the Cartel since I used a cartel car. So anyway after a serious of events the Yakuza bust up the cartel's Stanton hideout. I end up doing some more jobs. This one time with the help of the Yardies, my Ex-girlfriend tries to kill me with some spanked up suicide bombers. After doing a lot of odd jobs I find out asuka is murdered by Catalina my ex girlfriend and Maria is kidnapped. The whole thing ended with a big bang when I blew Catalina's chopper out of the sky with a freaking Bazooka. But Maria disappeared during a firefight between Catalina and me. I wonder what happened to her...  
  
Now I stood in the home of Yardie Kingpin King Courtney. Although it wasn't his house no more. He was dead his men were slain, his hideouts burnt to the ground. Nothing was stopping mefrom taking over this rat hole. Hell I'd start another Vercetti Empire. The Mafia was in a ruckus, the Yakuza leader less as well as the Yardies. The hoods and the Triad's were like flies to me. And the cartel was in hiding. The only major gang left was probably the Diablo's but they too were like the Triads and hoods. I could get them on my side easily because I have done them a few favors. I sat down on the beige leather couch in the living room and leaned my shotgun against my left shoulder. Willie had some great liquor I had found in his wreck room. I took out my lighter and lit up a cigarette. Life was gonna change in Liberty.  
  
======================================================================  
  
King Courtney's place was nice. Usually the Yardies lived in pent house suites but Old' King Courtney Lived in one of those cliff side stilt houses over looking the ocean. Like that one in lethal weapon 2 but with a pool and a dead Yardie who though he could jump me from the roof floated in it. Also unlike the other Yardie hideouts this one had resorted to white alot. All around there laid kevlar clad Yardies. I kicked one over that had carried twin Uzi's. He had the stupidity of smearing his hair and face in cocaine making him look like a retarded ghost. I smirked and looked around the room. Figuring this was my new place I should had better clean it up. I had to get some followers or something soon. The only people I had backing me is a one arm veteran and some bomb maker he cant even shoot a gun.  
  
"Well better than nothing." I said to myself. I was talking to myself again...not good.  
  
I picked up my cell phone and pressed 8-Ball's name on speed dial. I waited as the super fast dial went through. The phone rang 3 times till someone picked it up.  
  
"Helluh?"Said a sleep deprived voice. "Hey 8-ball, how ya doin?" "Who is this? Is this that AT&T guy? Listen I already told yo-" " Nah, nah it's an old friend of yours! Remember the "Wheel man?" "Mike Vercetti? Didn't the Don knock you off?" "Nah more like vice versa, and hell a month later here I am." "Hell, well you do know its 4 am right?" "Oh jeez I forgot. Sorry to wake you up man." "Nah it's cool. So what up?" "You know the Yardies?" "Yeah." " They ain't gonna be coming over and stealing your stuff anymore." "Huh?" "Yo man just come over to 456 scuttle lane in Shoreside Vale and you'll find out."  
  
I flipped my cell phone closed, picked up my shotgun and tequila bottle and walked out the door. It had started to rain, which extinguished the burning tree I set fire to when I charged the house. The crispy Jamaican I toasted still layed in the front yard. I walked over to my Banshee parked in the tar black driveway and opened the trunk placing my boomstick among my other weapons. A few .45's couple 9's 2 AK-47's a sniper rifle and an M16A2. I opened the 3-car garage to check out what they had. Not a bad selection too. A Yardie custom Lobo, a Cheetah, and I guess a show car which was a cartel cruiser. I sat down on a lawn chair with my liquor to wait for 8- Ball. =======================================================================  
  
It was around 5:30 A.M. as the sun filtered through charred slats of wood where I had fired a rocket into the upstairs bedroom of the house. 8-Ball drove up in an old '85 Bobcat, not the new ones mind you. An old one. 8- ball could hardly pay the rent sometimes. I watched him as he got out; well good news about him was his hands were looking better. I greeted him with my regular nod.  
  
"How ya doin 8?" I asked tossing my empty bottle. I was pretty buzzed.  
  
"Pretty good." He responded. He looked around admiring the house and its surroundings taking it all in. after a while he spoke. "And you seem to be doing pretty good yourself for a white boy.  
  
I just smirked. " Yeah, I've been making my own, but-" I trailed off. "Things are about to change."  
  
8 ball gave out a small hmpf. "Yeah well, what you kill this time?"  
  
"The Yardies."  
  
8 ball froze. "You're telling me." He began." YOU iced King Courtney?"  
  
" Ain't huffin' nothing' aren't you?" I responded sarcastically.  
  
8 just rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet trying to take it all in. He stumbled backwards. "Yardies...shit..." He said in-between huffs. He slumped to the bumper of his truck. I sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulder.  
  
"Listen man. You make a good living in harwood making bombs right?" I asked.  
  
8 ball nodded.  
  
"But like me you're hired hands. You take orders from somebody, and sometimes...well they rip you off on your bombs." 8 ball nodded his head. "What I'm saying here is." I continued. "You don't have to take orders anymore from some punkass hood and then get robbed. Instead of being a freelance bombmaker where you have no promise of getting paid you could work for me instead."  
  
"What you talkin' bout Fido?" 8 used that name on me. I hated that name but I always bit my lip in front of the don before. And I did right now.  
  
" Liberty city is up for grabs 8." I said standing up. "It's up for grabs and I'm taking it. And you can join me or not. But the Versetti's are gunna have a name again in this city." I yanked open the door of my Banshee. " And that's what I'm gonna do."  
  
8 ball stood up. " Yeah well where are you going?" he asked.  
  
"Get some breakfast. Wanna come?" =======================================================================  
  
I peeled out of the driveway of 456 Scuttle lane assured the house wouldn't be bothered. Luckily the people in this town were smart ENOUGH to keep to themselves. With the wind whipping my black hair I switched on the radio to Head Radio, that damn "turn the music" song was on which disgusted me so I flipped it to Lazlow's Chatterbox. Atleast that changed. 8 ball who was slumped in his seat with his arm over the passenger door holding a lit cigarette. He hollered over the roar of the engine and the whipping wind.  
  
" So how ya gonna start a crime ring when you only have a triangle?" "Simple." I responded in the same manner. " I got an Uncle down in Florida. Big time coke baron. Perhaps he can help us out."  
  
8 ball nodded "sounds like a plan."  
  
I turned into the Pike creek district. At the light there was a landstalker just sitting there at the light. Through the tinted back window I could see the driver making hand gestures as if he was talking on a cell phone. I gripped the wheel hoping the light wouldn't turn red and 8 ball became a bit uneasy. Then in a blink of an eye the light turned to red. In a roar I tore out of the car and grabbed my baseball bat from behind the seat. I walked up to the driver's door and smashed out the window.  
  
" Telephone call fool." I said to the wide-eyed and shocked driver. I ripped the cell phone from his hands and smashed it to pieces on the ground. I then straightened out my jacket and returned to my car and got in. 8 looked at me surprised.  
  
"You need help Mike.," he said.  
  
I peeled pass the angered businessman and made my way to do rising bridge. Luckily the bridge didn't raise like it usually does every 5 freaking' minutes. Out of every district I had to like Stanton Island. Portland; sure it had "entertainment" and street racing but I found it too spaced out in perspective. Shoreside vale well was mostly full of old rich dudes and nothing really happened and it was too spaced out as well. Now Stanton, that's my crib. A small miniature version of NewYork crammed together. Hotdog street vendors, back alley shootouts, great cars to boost and somewhat I like to shop in this area. Home of the Yardies and Yakuza you couldn't go wrong in Stanton.  
  
I know a little diner on the corner of Matheson and gumphrey in south Belleview. We parked across the street at around 6:30 and walked across the street. The owner Jerry was using a beefy paw to wipe away the new graffiti on his storefront. The had a blue sign with orange lettering proudly boasting "WE PROUDLY SUPPORT THE LIBERTY CITY COCKS" and someone had modified it to read; "WE PROUDLY SUCK LIBERTY CITY'S COCK". 8 ball and I just snickered at this and walked inside. We took a seat a seat in the corner booth.  
  
" So." Said 8 ball smushing his ciggarete in the ashtray." You uncle he runs vice city?"  
  
" Yep. Varsity owned and operated since 1986." I responded.  
  
" Ya know mike." He said. " Liberty City is way different than Vice city. And hell kid, back in '86 it was east to take over. All there were, were a bunch of yahoo floridians and tourists and some unorganized Cuban and Haitian gangs. Man now these days the gangs have like bloody attack choppers."  
  
An attractive young waitress came over to our table.  
  
" Can I take ya orders boys?" She said in a slight southern accent.  
  
" Yeah um... just give me a cup of coffee. Strong and black." I said. She turned to 8 ball. " and what would you like?' She asked. 8 ball motioned at me with his hand. "Same as he's having." He said. The waitress nodded and walked off.  
  
" What's the problem Mike? Lose your appetite?" He asked.  
  
" Nah that waitress gave me a bloody boner."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	2. Welcome to vice city

A/n: Yet I still don't own GTA, Rockstar does (impotent bastards) Insert random bitching here blah blah blah.  
  
Liberty City: The New Reign Chapter 2:Welcome to Vice City  
  
8 ball smothered his Cigarette in a standing ashtray next to the terminal stairs.  
  
" So when is this uncle of yours gonna meet us Mike?" He asked.  
  
"Well it isn't as much as meet us. He always sends someone to do his dirty work most of the time." I said. Peeking over the heads of passerby's in the crowded airport.  
  
" Hmm. Well that helps." He said smugly.  
  
" Just look for a guy holding a sign saying Versetti." I said.  
  
Yes by what you can somewhat tell we are in Vice City's Escobar International airport. We kinda got here late for a few reasons 1.) We couldn't call Cassidy and get him to watch my newly acquired house while we were gone(but we eventually did) 2.) A contact (from what we believe to be working for my uncle) in Vice City calling himself Paulo was late booking our plane tickets and 3.) 8-ball never had been on a plane before and he started freakin' out when the plane started Taxing out, so it took a good half hour for stewardess's and the captain to calm him down. That wouldn't been a problem if I had managed to convince him to fly with me in the dodo but 8 ball sometimes is hard to convince.  
  
So here we are in Vice City walking around the Escobar lobby. I had to abandon my leather jacket draping it over my arm and which under it I had a white tank top undershirt and a pair of dog tags. People looked at me funny for not wearing a shirt. Anyway we decided to go catch a cab and get to my uncle's house, but as we neared the front door we saw a flash of a sign reading: VERSETTI. A Black man held the sign in a white suit with graying hair and an eye patch over his right eye. We walked over to the stranger a bit cautious.  
  
" Ah!" He said relieved. " You must be Mr. Versetti's Nephew from Liberty City."  
  
" So we are." I said motioning to 8 ball. " This is 8 ball my right hand man."  
  
8 ball gave me a "look".  
  
"Right, Right." He said a bit hurriedly. " Well I am Mr. Versetti's right hand man La-err…Quentin! Quentin Vance." He said. I held out my hand to him, which he declined.  
  
"We have no time to waste." He said turning away from us. " Mr. Versetti is waiting."  
  
Quentin lead us out into the sun drenched motorway of the airport into a large field right outside. I turned to Quentin.  
  
" Aren't we going to the Versetti estate?" I asked.  
  
" Yes." He replied. "We are waiting for our transportation. It has appeared over the years Mr. Versetti likes to make a good impression."  
  
I glanced back at 8 ball who looked a bit uncertain. As soon as I turned back to Quentin a Maverick Helicopter started to descend upon us. Mr. Vance motioned to us as he climbed into the copter'. 8 ball and I just shrugged our shoulders at each other and climbed in behind Quentin. As soon as I shut the door behind me the copter' ascended into the bright blue sky. 8 ball started freaking out again. So the pilot reached back and back handed him. 8 ball was shocked. He was about to protest but I jabbed his foot with the toe of my shoe and he bit his tongue. We were now speeding over head above what looked like large propane containers in clusters of 4's. When we pulled past the tanks we were over a long stretch of road. We passed a run down ice cream shop, several condemned buildings. When we flew a bit down the road the pilot turned to the right sharply and we found ourselves over water. 8 ball started fidgeting again. I looked out the front window and I found we were approaching a mid size island, it looked as if a part of it was washed away. I looked around. Does my uncle live here? If he did he was a lucky bastard. This place was the Ritz. We know found ourselves descending upon the front lot of a VERY large mansion. This place freaking out did the playboy mansion.  
  
The place looked like it had changed a bit from what I can tell. On the right of the mansion was a large strip of pavement jutting out over the bay. looked like a car track for road tests I assumed. On the left was a large garage. We landed infront of the mansions front steps and got out. As soon as Quentin shut the cockpit door behind us the copter' lifted off and flew over the mansion. Quentin motioned to us and jogged up the steps. 8 and I just shrugged our shoulders. And with my coat draped over my arm and my dog tags jangling against my chest I followed Quentin up the steps with 9 ball.  
  
When we had gotten inside the mansion we jogged up another set of stairs to a partly ajar door from which I could hear a man yelling to what appeared to be himself.  
  
" Whaddya mean you got high again…YOU DID WHAT?!?…Your lucky the cops are dumb bastards that they can tell if someone is hopped up…Rosenburg your one dumb fuck…listen, listen, listen I'll send Lance over to bail you out…yeah, yeah Ken you'd better fuckin' shape up."  
  
Followed by that little interlude was the loud slamming of something blunt against a wall, which made 8 and me jump a bit but not This Quentin guy. Casually he knocked on the door. From inside came a gruff voice saying " Get in here". Vance opened the door and walked inside followed by myself then a reluctant 8-ball. It was a nice room we were standing in right now. Wall to wall shag carpeting, floor to ceiling windows situated on each side of open french doors, the latest Gruppe' security monitoring devices occupied wall next to a glass encased gun rack sporting 4 identical black matte' Spas 12 shotguns. On the other wall of the office sat up against it, a glass case which appeared to be holding several antique, exotic and collector's handguns. Above the case hung several overhead shots of Vice city itself at sunrise, sunset, night and day. Behind the desk was a tall red leather office chair with its back turned towards us. A voice issued from it.  
  
" Lance, explain to me why I haven't fired that prick Rosenberg?" Said in an aging voice somewhat like Ray Liotta's. I gave 8 a look. This guy's name was Lance Vance?  
  
" Lance" Vance straightened up and looked directly at the back of the chair. He straightened his tie and said;  
  
"He manages your smaller less demeaning assets, gets your ass out of jail and makes one hell of a fruit smoothie." He finished a bit smugly.  
  
With that the leather chair spun around to face us. What I saw was a black hair Italian tanned skin man dressed in a black suit with white pinstripes. He appeared to look around 35-ish but I could tell he was probably in his late 50's. Yes ladies and gentlemen I could tell already that this was my Uncle Thomas Versetti. He had the Versetti vibe going off around him like a fuckin' fire hydrant in Liberty City on a hot day. I looked at him. And he looked at me. Finally after a long awkward moment he blurted out." Who's the punk?"  
  
I looked shocked." Excuse me?" I said in a gruff voice.  
  
Tommy pointed at me and in a pissed off voice he blurted "Shut up".  
  
Quentin cleared his voice bringing Versetti's attention. Tommy turned in his chair to face him.  
  
"What?" He said sounding irritated.  
  
" Uh Mister Versetti." He began. " This is Michael from up North in Liberty City."  
  
Tommy sat back placing his fingertips together. " Go on." He said sounding intrigued.  
  
" He's uh your Nephew?" Said Lance. Tommy's eyes widened and his lips pursed together in surprised.  
  
"Oh." He spouted out after a moment. " Well uh Michael I'm sorry for that awkward moment back there. I'm a bit pissed off, you see my Lawyer Ken Rosenberg got high and picked a fight in the greasy chopper." He sat up and straightened his tie. " Uh I remember your mother. She was my favorite sister." He said trying to make light of the situation. He continued. "I'm sure you came a long way from Liberty, and that you have very important business with me." He smoothed back his hair. "But I too have important business to attend to so we'll have to discuss this over dinner." He snapped his fingers and Yelled "Mario!" Stout Italian man with a balding hair and wearing sunglasses walked over to us. He had on a blue and white shirt and carried a deadly looking Uzi.  
  
" Ah Mario." He started." Get my Nephew here a shirt. It looks like he just came off the set of Die Hard."  
  
" Yes Sir Mister Versetti." Said Mario in a voice that made you want to tear your eardrums out. Mario grabbed me by the arm and led me out of the room followed by 8 ball. From inside the room I could hear my uncle's voice again.  
  
" Ya know Lance that prick Rosenberg better shape up. I don't even like Fruit Smoothies."  
  
I grimaced at the shirt Mario Held up to me. It was Orange with Yellow Palm trees.  
  
" Are you fucking nuts?" I asked him. "Do I look like I wanna get shot?"  
  
" Well…" Mario Said. " Mister Versetti told me to get you a shirt…and I don't wanna end up like Sonny Forelli…SO PUT ON THE DAMN SHIRT KID!" He finished a bit irritated. We were standing in a large walk in closet off the main hall. 8 ball sat in a chair against the wall twiddling his thumbs.  
  
" C'mon man it's a Jimmy Buffet Shirt!" I said trying to persuade him. Next thing I knew we were wrestling on the floor. Mario had me pinned down forcing the buttoned up shirt over my head.  
  
" MARIO LAY OFF HIM!" Said Mercedes.  
  
"Fine." Mario said profusely and helped me off the floor, brushing me off. I haven't introduced you to Miss Cortex yet have I? She's ok. Tommy met her through her Dad Colonel Cortez. I heard about that guy on CNN. Apparently he's in hiding because the French Government. Anyway she did some "work" for Tommy back in '86 and has been living in the Versetti estate on and off since then.  
  
She walked over to me carrying a black sleeved button up shirt.  
  
" I think this should fit you." She said putting it on me.  
  
" The sleeves are a bit big." I said rolling them up and putting my cigarettes in the front shirt pocket. I kept The shirt unbuttoned. I never wore shirts for some reason.  
  
Just then Tommy walked past the door. He must have changed because now he wore a faded blue Hawaiian shirt, jeans and tennis shoes. In his hand he carried a stainless steel plated desert eagle with ivory finish hand guards.  
  
"Ah, Lance." He said. Appearing somewhat calm. " You and Mario go ready the Deluxo. Kid your coming with us." He finished indicating me.  
  
" What's the problem Tommy?" Ask Quentin a bit worried.  
  
" The Haitians tried to Tango with us again Lance." He shot back over his shoulder.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	3. There's a new gang in town

Liberty City: The new reign  
  
A/n: Ah another chapter. Same disclaimer I don't own grand theft auto, Rockstar does blah blah blah. I would like to point out a few things though mentioned in the reviews.  
  
Sniperfox pointed out the M16 in GTA3 was a M16A1 not the M16A2 model. I believe in my opinion this to be wrong. If you take a comparison of the two weapons side by side you notice that the A2 has molded rings on its fore grip while the A1 does not. The Fore grip on the A2 is round while the A1 is triangular. The A2 has a 30 round clip like in the game while the A1 only has 20 rounds. And come on think about it for a second. Our military currently has the M16A2 in service, while in Vietnam it was the A1, I mean really would our military service outdated weapons?  
  
Sniperfox also pointed out I kept saying Stanton island instead of the correct term Staunton island. Blame my word processor.  
  
Princein, King Courtney was a chick? I didn't know that. But then again there are guys name Courtney.  
  
Also anything else that didn't fit is strictly my view on the story line.  
  
Enjoy.  
  
Chapter 3: A new gang in town.  
  
" You carrying kid?" Quentin asked me as we crossed the Versetti mansion threshold for the second time today. Mario Drove up in a Mint condition green '86 Deluxo.  
  
" No." I replied.  
  
Lance Reached behind his back and pulled out from underneath his belt a loaded Chrome finished colt .45 and 2 magazines. He handed them to me.  
  
" Don't you need a gun too man?" I asked him.  
  
" Naw I'm fine kid, thanks for asking." He replied patting at a concealed white shoulder holster under his jacket.  
  
I shrugged my shoulders and got in the back of the car. Lance sat down next to me, and Mario was in the driver's seat Uzi at the ready. A moment later Tommy strolled out of the Versetti manor with a new weapon, his Deagle tucked under his belt. The new weapon he carried was like a mix between a IMI Uzi 9mm and a H&K G36 compact. Tommy yanked open the car door and slipped into the passenger's seat.  
  
" Bringing along some extra fire power Tommy?" Lance asked.  
  
"Yeah, I figured so. That kid who came in with Michael can't use a gun." Came his Retort.  
  
I nodded at Tommy as Mario peeled out of the curving driveway.  
  
" What kind of gun is that sir?" I asked him.  
  
Mario drove west down Star road, the main road of Starfish Island.  
  
" I got it in yesterday. It's the new model Heckler and Koch PDW or MP7 if you want to call it that. I figured I'd break it in today on some Haitian scumbag" He finished slapping a high capped magazine into the handgun butt. I nodded my head eyeing the weapon. It was odd, but I heard the MP7 was H&K's best 9mm submachine gun in their product lineup yet. I then realised I was still holding Quentin's .45, so I started checking it out. Ie: Lining up the sights flipping the safety off then back on. And chambering a round. By the time I was done we had arrived in a slum neighborhood. People looked at us from their windows and front porches as we drove past them. Little kids who were near a broken fire hydrant next to a shack scattered and ran away as we pulled up in front of the house. A large Haitian women carrying a wooden spoon, she was dressed in all purple except for a flower printed apron as she walked out of the shack.  
  
" Eh Tommy Versetti!" She said sounding pissed off. "Nuff' deed mon 'round ere', Ah told ye already, Not to com' back ta little Haiti but ya do anyway. My boys ain't be causin' ya any trouble for awhile ya 'ear?"  
  
Tommy got out of the car MP7 behind his back. Lance got out and followed along with me. Mario stayed behind toying with the car's throttle.  
  
" You, Auntie Poulet." Tommy began. " Claim your boys haven't anything to me or my assets? Yet this morning my protection squad a Kauffman cabs had a shootout with some Haitians who broke into the safe holding the month's revenue. Yet you say you've left us alone…I wonder."  
  
" Eh Versetti, Mah Boy's weren't anywhere near K cabs this morning!" She exclaimed defensibly. "they was at mah shack going over with me a plan in the gang war we be havin' wit dem' Cuban boys!"  
  
"Right." Said Tommy unconvinced. Just then out of the corner of my eye I saw a Red Lobo turn the corner at a extremely fast speed. A Yardie gangster and a Hatian poked themselves out of the right side passneger windows brandishing sawn off MossBerg M500 shotguns. As quickly as I could react I pulled Tommy and Lance down backwards with behind the Deluxo. The drive byers both fired one shot each Mario didn't notice until the last moment and got hit with a face full of shot. He slumped against the steering wheel, dead. Poulet was a bit lucky and got hit in the shoulder. She clutched her gored shoulder uneasily and slumped to the front porch in shock. Tommy got up dusted himself same as lance did. He looked at the limp figure of Auntie Poulet for a second then turned around and pointed at a woman standing on her porch nearby who saw the whole incident. He yelled a simple sentence at her.  
  
" CALL AN AMBULANCE!"  
  
In the meantime I had pulled the corpse of Mario out of the driver's seat letting him fall to the ground. I picked up his Uzi and pulled the hammer bolt back. Tommy slid into the seat next to me and Lance was once again in the back.  
  
" Can you drive kid?" Tommy asked a bit excited.  
  
"Watch me." I said as I shifted the car into first gear.  
  
We peeled out of the dirt neighborhood the same way the Lobo had went. When I turned the corner I saw the Yardie car sitting at a red light about to make a right turn. I gunned the Deluxo's engine as the Lobo started pulling out. I just missed fish tailing it when I got to the Lobo. I did a sharp right turn bearing down on the Red Lobo. As soon as I was about to ram it sped up and the Haitian popped out of the side window wielding his shotgun again. He fired at the Deluxo barely missing the right front tire. He pulled the shotgun back to rack it but Tommy started firing at the lobo with his PDW. Three shots hit the trunk lid while two hit the roof next to the Haitian. The Haitian finished chambering a shell and fired at us again hitting the hood. Buckshot tore through the thin metal and hit the radiator.  
  
White smoke started billowing from the car. I had to end this fast or we'd lose them from the car's engine melting. I pulled myself out of the window and emptied the clip at the car. 3 shots shattered the windshield while 2 more hit the trunk again. The last two hit their mark as the tire exploded and flapped around the metal rim like a rag doll. My hand was still out the window when the hubcap freed itself from the rim and headed straight for my hand. Pulled my hand back saving it but not the gun , and the gun was knocked from my hand. The lobo lost control and flipped over thanks to its hydraulics, Unfortunate for the Haitian who was still hanging out the side window when the car flipped. Lance flinched when the Haitian dove head- first with the car.  
  
I stopped the Deluxo and pulled the Deagle out of Tommy's belt. Feeling the smooth ivory in my hand I held the at in a guard position and jogged over to the Lobo. Tommy followed PDW in hand followed by Lance who carried a gun identical to the Colt I had lost. I crouched down next to the wreckage and looked underneath it. They were dead. A Haitian and two Yardies were the only people reconisable. I stood up and shook my head handing Tommy his Gun back.  
  
" What's the problem kid?" He asked me.  
  
"What I wanted to know was what a Liberty City street gang was doing down south."  
  
" You win some and you lose some kid." Said Quentin walking up to us. "I learned that the hard way."  
  
"Right, right, whatever." Said Tommy. "Let's quit this sissy emotional crap and get going."  
  
Tommy started off to a nearby payphone. Lance a I followed him.  
  
" C'mon kid." Tommy said. "Lets go buy you a new gun."  
  
Tommy had called us a Kauffman cabs and we took a drive over to Washington Beach on the other island. I could tell right then The east island was more Tourist friendly. It looked cleaner and more welcoming. We stopped at this clean cut Ammu-nation. Tommy showed me the handgun counter. The guy sitting behind it looked up at us with a bored look on his face. He was reading gothic themed magazine.  
  
" Mister Versetti." Said the clerk monotonuesly. " What can I do for you."  
  
" Ah Konstantinos, This is my nephew Michael from up North." Said Tommy clapping his hand on my shoulder. Show him your best wares."  
  
The Clerk took out a ring of keys and sighed. He unlocked the glass cabinet and took out the first handgun.  
  
" This is a Berreta M92F. Chrome finish, intergal laser sight, ghost ring sights." Said Konstatinos.  
  
Tommy shook his head.  
  
Konstantinos sighed again and took out the next piece.  
  
" This here is a Glock 18 full automatic, High cap mag, and compensated for lower rate of recoil."  
  
Tommy gave a little maybe nod.  
  
The clerk sighed yet again and pulled out another piece. It was a beauty.  
  
" Colt .45, silver steel plating, low recoil compensation, once belonged to be rumored Ricardo Diaz then Pastor Thomas Richards; who reportedly shot a nudist on pressing issues. Retail at this store: $250.00"  
  
Tommy slapped his hand on the counter making me jump.  
  
" Well take all three. Load em', Bag em' and put em' on my tab." Said Tommy.  
  
" As you wish." Said The depressive Goth sighing for the thousandth tome. 


	4. Dinner and a showdown

Liberty City: the new reign  
  
A/n: Another update another chapter. Same as before I don't own GTA blah blah blah. I enjoy reading the support you guys send in the reviews. Never have I gotten so many in one story. Thanks. Oh you guys, don't get too comfy with the proposition of Fido taking over Liberty. Things in the land of Vice may take a sudden sharp turn in the near future. Now I just want to point out my opinion right now about some stuff from the reviews.  
  
from: Jim Love()  
  
I got a few things to say:rnrn1. Fido is a gay name for the hero. It sounds like a member of the Jackson Five. I think the guy's name is Eddie because your first hideout is at a place called "Eddie's"rn2. The guy in the SWAT car with you that gets taken away by the Colombians is the Old Oriental Gentleman from the Love missions. Go to LibertyTree.com to get the news story.rn3. 8-Ball betrayed "The Lone Gunman" in the mission "Last Request".rn3. Tommy Vercetti took over Diaz's business to take over the town. Diaz is Colombian.  
  
Well quite big words there Jim. Here's my side.  
  
I didn't come up with the name "Fido". That's Maria's pet name for GTA3 guy so it became known to refer to him as Fido. 2 I do not believe Eddie's garage belongs to Fido. Infact 8-ball pointed it out too him so it can't be his. 3.) I don't remember 8-ball betraying GTA3 Guy do you? 4 Okay so I got the Oriental gentleman part wrong. So sue me. 5 Actually I believe Diaz to be Cuban. Survey says?  
  
Liberty City: The new reign Chapter 4: Dinner and a showdown.  
  
"Okay okay okay." Tommy said to me in a drunken stupor peering over the top of his wineglass. " You wanna start a crime ring in Liberty?"  
  
" Yeah you could call it that." I responded. A bit annoyed.  
  
" Lance you hear this shit?' He asked his right hand man. " Of all the cities in the U.S. my own Nephew, a blood lined Vercetti, picks the worst fuckin' city in the world."  
  
" I know Tommy. Fuckin' incredible." Came Lance's retort.  
  
We were sitting at the dinner table just having finished our meal. 8-  
ball had gone to bed early so all who was left sitting at the table,  
was Me, Lance, Tommy and Mercedes. I downed the last of my Budwizer  
and sat up straight. Tommy straightened his tie.  
  
" Ok kid you have spunk and it sounds like your intent on doing this."  
Tommy said coming out of his comatose of drunk ness. "It sounds like a  
good business oppurtunity, to have legimate family ties up north.  
Whaddya need?"  
  
I scratched my chin in thought for a moment. " I need some hardware, a  
few good men and some dope for funding."  
  
"Okay." Tommy said. "Here's the deal. I have the drugs and the guys  
ready. The guns you'll have to wait a bit on."  
  
I nodded my head. " Sounds reasonable." I added. I got up from the  
table and left.  
  
When I had got out to the main hall, 8-ball sat on the bottom step of  
the grand staicase enjoying a ciggarete. I sat down next to him  
fishing my flat box of lucky strikes from my front pocket. Without  
looking at me, 8-ball asked; " So what's the deal?"  
  
I lit up my own cancer stick with a weathered KISS zippo. " We have  
the drugs and the guys, we gotta wait a few days for the hardware."  
  
8-ball nodded and took a puff. Just then I heard a loud click like a  
gun's safety being clicked off.  
  
" Don't fuckin' move senior dickhead."  
  
I looked up from lighting my fag. In front of me stood two people.  
One, a Yardie in a blue and white shirt, holding a pump action  
directed at my head. The other; a femme' fatale knockout in a  
miniskirt. In her right hand she held a vicious looking Desert eagle.  
I reconized her instantly.  
  
" Maria!" I said trying to distract her a bit. "Long time no see! What  
brings you down to Vice city? A little fun in the sun?"  
  
Just then the Yardie racked the pump on his shotgun.  
  
" Can it babe." She said pissed off. "I came down to this hellhole for  
revenge."  
  
" Yeah?" I asked noticing a open bottle of jack daniels lying on the  
step next to me. "On which unfortunate soul?"  
  
"You dick wad." She said coolly. " Apparently I don't like the fact  
about sleeping with a guy then him shooting me later."  
  
I stood up with the neck of the Jack Daniels clutched in my fist.  
"Hey, Maria. Please it was a one night stand relax."  
  
" He's got a point." Said 8-ball butting in.  
  
I jerked the bottle of JD making some of it splash on the Yardie. "  
Drink Padre'? It ain't Duchy but it does the job.  
  
The Yardie ignored me.  
  
Just then Maria got more pissed off then I had ever seen her. " KILL  
THIS NIG!" She yelled at the shotgun toting Yardie. "Leave Fido for  
me."  
  
"Oh now I'm pissed." I said. "Never call me Fido bitch."  
  
I threw my lit ciggarete at the Yardie. Instantly his alcohol drenched  
sleeve caught fire. He dropped his shotgun, it fell clattering to the  
floor. He started waving his arm around wildly only making it worse.  
Maria tried helping him by hitting the flames with her jacket. With my  
right hand I drew my Glcok 18 and with my left I broke the bottle of  
liquor making it a knife. 8-ball pulled the Berretta from my belt for  
his own weapon. When Maria had extinguished the flaming yardie she  
reached for her Deagle. I replied by painfully stepping on her hand  
and kicking it away.  
  
" She looked down the barrel of my gun with pleading eyes. " Please  
don't kill me." She said sounding very fake. "I'll do anything, just  
please don't kill me."  
  
I considered a moment. "Tell me." I said. My Glock's sights lined up  
on the sqaure of her forehead. "Tell me what's with you and the  
Yardies."  
  
Maria stood up and dusted herself. " The Yardies are pissed 'cause you  
iced King Courtney. So I made a deal with 'em that I'd help them find  
you." She said in her thick New York accent. " Apparently when we got  
to Vice city, The Yardies needed crime connections. They needed to  
know the right people to get around this town. That's when they joined  
a coalition with some members of the Cuban gang."  
  
" Go on." I said.  
  
"Well the Cubans were nice, and told the Yardies they'd help put a hit  
out on you." She finished, leaving me a bit un-notified to everything.  
Still it was some information.  
  
I furrowed my brow at her. "How many gangs are looking for me?" I  
asked.  
  
"Some Haitians, The Prawn Island sharks and the Gruppe's." She  
retorted reluctantly.  
  
"Ok." I said. "Why are you still involved with the Yardies then?"  
  
"Oh me?" She asked. "I'm their Kingpin. I control them."  
  
Just then Tommy appeared at the doorway, Apparently he had recovered  
from his comatose stated of drunkeness. He looked at me, then to 8  
then to Maria then back at me.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?" He screamed.  
  
Maria took advantage of the situation and landed a right hook square  
across my jaw. I landed on the hard cold marble floor and watched as 8-  
ball fumbled with the safety on his gun. My Glock slid across the  
floor to Tommy's feet. Maria pulled from the waistband of her  
miniskirt a Kahr 9 and shoot 8-ball in the kneecap. 8 howled in pain  
clutching his bloody knee as Tommy shot at the fleeing Maria as she  
ran out the front door.  
  
I fell to 8's side as he clutched his wounded knee. I tore the sleeve  
of my shirt off and folded it up applying pressure on the wound. Tommy  
walked over to me handing my gun back to me. He then took out his cell  
phone and said,  
  
"I'll call the paramedics."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	5. The Hitman

Liberty City: the new reign  
  
A/n: Yet another chapter. I'm hoping this one be longer with some more action. As always I don't own GTA rockstar does you know the drill. Thanks for the Reviews everyone! I'm probably gunna change the story's title to the Land of Vice.  
  
Liberty City the new reign Chapter5: The Htiman Breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!  
  
My cell phone had just gone off. I picked it up to answer it.  
  
" Hello?" "EH! MIKE!" "Oh. Hey Phil." "How's Vice treatin' ya kid?" "Its fairing. 8 ended up in the hospital." " Oh. Really, how?" " You remember Maria Leone'? The Don's btich?" "Oh that crazy nutter? Yeah I remember her. She could strip the lead out of a pencil." "Yeah, well seems she rounded up the Yardies. Came down south to hunt me down." "Ah so that's how it went down." "Yeah, Freakin' A. She was an animal in the sack.but shit. She can hold a gun." " Tell me bout' it. Hey listen, you remember that crooked pig Ray? " Yeah I remember him. Almost got a fuckin' bullet in my head over him." "Yeah well he's in Vice, It seems the FBI was crooked enough to hire a contract killer to find him. He's held up in this apartment in Washington Beach vistas, Apartment 3c. Go see what's happening down there is you can." "Yeah I'll check it out." *Click*  
  
I turned my cell phone off as Tommy got in the cheetah. In his left hand he held a smoking .357, in his other a black duffel bag. I stared at the gun transfixed as Tommy started the engine. I noticed a ring of blood was encrusted around the tip of the barrel. Tommy looked at me confused.  
  
"What?" He asked.  
  
"Uh.I thought you were collecting the rent." I said a bit confused.  
  
" Oh this?" He asked waving the deadly weapon in my face. "The front page cafe gives me some trouble sometimes.that's all you need to know." He finished reloading his weapon and sticking it in his belt.  
  
"Hey Tommy you know a place in Washington beach called Washington beach Vistas?" I asked him lighting up a smoke. He nodded his head.  
  
"Uh.yeah. I took care of some "buisiness there back in '86." He said buisiness with deadly innuedo. " Why do you wanna go to that dump anyway?"  
  
"Ah I was asked to check up on an old buisiness associate." I responded looking out the window at the bikini clad beauties skating up and down the strip. Tommy started the car up.  
  
" Right. I get the picture kid." He said shifting the car into first gear.  
  
When we had arrived at the Vistas I noticed one thing. Tommy was right. This place was a dump. The roof looked like it was caving in, the grass around it was browning in patches all over the property. Faded paint peeled of the building like sun burned skin. I had no clue why a guy like Ray would choose a dump to lie low in. But then again it was a low-key sorta place. Hidden behind large patches of foilage. I got out of the car and looked around. Ahead of me down an cement path strewn with weeds was a flight of stairs, guided by a rusting wrought iron hand railing. I ascended it followed by Tommy. Our hands on the butt stocks of our weapons at all times.  
  
Apartment 3c was at the top of the stairs. Gilded above the eyehole was rusted letters, a 3 and a upside down c. I noticed the door was slightly ajar so I pushed it open. I was greeted by a wave of rotting fruit and mold. Pulling my Glock out of my I looked around the apartemnt.  
  
"Ray?" I called out to the empty room. It was empty. I noticed light was pouring in through a crack in the bathroom door. I pushed it open. Staring up at me from the bathroom floor, with blank dead eyes. Was Ray. A bullet hole where his heart was. I was a bit shocked. But then again the FBI was looking for him. Tommy tugged at my arm.  
  
"I think we'd better leave kid." He said.  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
A/n: Note those pluses put together in a line, show a different POV from Michael's. Meaning someone else is telling the story.  
  
From the passenger window of my Hermes, I saw the Vistas.  
  
The Fed was right about this place. It WAS in disrepair. But all the while the crooked pig's oily voice still ringed in my ears.  
  
"You get rid of Ray, and you're made my friend."  
  
It was a good deal. A 5 figure pay for taking out a bent cop who probably couldn't even shoot a gun, it was easy money. I scoped the place out early in the over stale coffee in the air-conditioned comfort of my Hermes. It was pretty simple. The bathroom window was situated above the building's gas meter, which was also hidden behind a large bush and a palm tree. So I could slip in unnoticed. At around 9:00 I checked the magazine on my Kahr 9mm and screwed on its silencer. I pushed open the rusting door of my car, and pushed it shut as I jogged across the street. I didn't have to be wary of passing cars, since there were no passerby's at this hour. I made my way across the street and behind the bush.  
  
I took my footing on a steam pipe attached to the meter and pushed myself up. I then took a good hold on the window sill and pulled myself up into the bathroom. I could hear the TV on in the next room. A rerun of just the five of us was on. Damn I missed it. I slipped behind the flamingo printed shower curtain just as the TV shut off. A recliner's cushion springs creaked. A man grunted. Ray walked into the room, he was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and an undershirt. He turned the faucet on and splashed some warm water on his face. Just as he was reaching for a towel on the towel rack, I swooped out from behind the curtain. I clamped my arm around his neck as we struggled a bit. After a moment, I placed the barrel of my 9 against his chest and pulled the trigger. He fell limp in my arms dead. It walked out the bathroom door, into the main room, and then out the front door down the steps. I jogged across the street, yet again not having to worry about cars.  
  
I got in the faded interior of my black Hermes, pulling the rusting door shut behind me. I turned on the engine, idleing it a bit. Maybe my Ex was right, I should get a new car. But then again that bitch was crazy. I shifted into first gear and drove straight to prawn island.  
  
I lived on Prawn island opposite the Shark's territory in a small 2-bedroom loft that over looked the global film's lot. When I had gotten in it was noon and rain had started to fall. I threw my keys on the kitchen counter ad mist the heaping piles of trash and my gun on the coffee table. I picked up the tv's remote and switched it on. Yuppie and the alien was on. I liked this show. It was more real than reality shows today. Just then the phone rang. I picked it up  
  
"Hello?" I spoke into the reciever. "Meet me in the Greasy chopper at 8. Come alone and unarmed. Ask the bartender to see Maria." Said a voice on the other end. The phone then went click.  
  
I smirked. More "Work" for me. 


	6. 10,000 bullets

The Land of Vice  
  
A/n: You know the drill, so why should I put a disclaimer on it? I don't own grand theft auto, that's for sure. Rockstar does, And we all know I ain't makin' jack shit off this story. This whole disclaimer thing is really getting repetitive. Anyway on with the show.  
  
The land of Vice Chapter 6: 10,000 bullets  
  
Holy Shit! I said amazed. You own the docks too?  
  
"Hell yeah kid." Said Tommy slamming the door to the Cheetah shut. "Taxi fares go a long way in this town."  
  
We were standing outside of Vice port. I remembered seeing photos of this place in a geography book, back then it looked rutty and run down. But with sufficient contributions from Tommy's crew, damn the place looked brand new. I was impressed.  
  
"So." I said, trying to stir up some conversation. "How much revenue does this pool in?"  
  
"Oh about, 10 g's." Tommy said without looking at me as he started up the driveway. I was amazed.  
  
"10 grand!? How the hell does this place rake in that kind of dough? Do you like rip off credit cards?" I asked amazed even more.  
  
" Ah, tourists like boats and charter fishing." Tommy said scratching the back of his head. "Plus, I get a lot of "Underground Buisiness", heh if you know what I mean."  
  
" Interesting." I said. I knew Vice city was famous for some of the best Cuban hash in america, but I had no clue the Vercetti family had a Hand in it.  
  
We had came to the other end of the buiding now. The large steel door frame opened up into a boat hanger type building. Boats hung dry-docked and in disassembeled pieces, or being worked on. A few of Vercetti's men mulled around in their blue and white shirts, muttering about some chick they dated once. I looked admiringly at the Sqaullo and the Cuban built stunt boat sitting next to the concrete jetty's.  
  
"Hey, Suit dude!"  
  
I turned around to see two guys jump down from a hanging reefer, I should have noticed the cloud of smoke forming around the top of it. Tommy waked up to the guys.  
  
" How's it goin' Travis, Sam?" He asked both of the guys.  
  
"Ah its fine, Were too far out of mid-city region to get riff-raff from a gang." The boy wearing a Rockstar T-shirt said.  
  
"Ah, so when you kids gonna get a real job instead of hanging around my yards all the time." Tommy asked.  
  
" Naw, shiznit don't interest us." Said the guy in a blue tanktop. Tommy just shook his head.  
  
"Right whatever, listen I need my rent do you have it?"  
  
" Sure thing suitdude." Said the kid in the Rockstar T-shirt. He climbed up dissappearing into the top of the reefer and returned a second later holding an aluminum briefcase. Just then an odd waning sound came from the sea. A gunshot echoed off the walls of the concrete jetty. Travis fell down dead, a blank stare on his face. The briefcase slid down the sloped jetty. I dived for it but it fell in the water.. I looked up to see 2 Yardies and two Haitians in a Reefer with a net trying to scoop up the briefcase. Another person appeared on the deck holding a smoking Kahr 9.  
  
"BITCH!" Sam yelled at Maria as he pulled a Semi-automatic Remington rifle from the Hanging Reefer. I ducked behind a drydocked speeder as two Haitians jumped off the boat onto the Jetty. Sam fired 2 shots, one hitting the concrete wall on the jetty and the other hitting the lead Haitian straight in the neck. The other living Haitian raised a Tec-9 and pulled the trigger. A spray of what felt like 10,000 bullets spewed out. Tommy hit the deck and scampered behind a few empty barrels. The other shots hit the hull of the hanging reefer, getting Sam right in the stomach.  
  
Tommy's protection squad started firing at the Yardie's reefer as the Yardie's got the briefcase onto the boat. The Haitian ran back down the Jetty attempting to jump back on the reefer. I rolled out from behind the Speeder's empty hull shooting the Fleeing Haitian in the back with my Glock 18. The Haitian lurched forward missing the deck of the Jetty by an inch and fell in the water dead. I ejected the clip of my gun and reinserted a fresh one. Maria started shouting orders at the Yardies trying to control the reefer in the rough waters. I pulled my Berretta from my belt and started firing Akimbo at the Reefer. None of shots hit their targets, they just cut through the boat's small windows shattering them. One hit the hull luckily though, but the hole was too small to sink the boat right away.  
  
I ducked behind the barrels with Tommy as a Yardie and Maria fired at us as the other Yardie tried to start the engine. I looked past the Jetty's fence to see the protection squad had been cut down to one guy firing an Uzi at the Reefer. I shook my head as Tommy pulled out a second colt Python Matching the once he had shown me in the Cheetah this morning. I winced as a bullet cut through the barrel right next to my head. Their aim was increasing Tommy spoke to me.  
  
"When they reload fire." He said cocking both his revolvers. I nodded reinserting fresh clips into both my guns. A second later we heard it, clips falling from their breeches, new one's being inserted in.  
  
"NOW!" Tommy yelled jumping out from behind the barrels. I nodded and did the same as well. Tommy and fired 3 shots form both our guns, they again hit the hull of the boat, one shot of his hit the Yardie in the thigh. I Maria ducked behind the housing, one of my 9's barely missing her head. Just then we both heard it. The Yardie had the engine started. I fired the rest of the magazines in both of my guns, but it was to no victory. They had sped away. I reinserted fresh magazines into my guns, feeling defeated. Just then Tommy rushed past me. He ran down the Jetty's ramp and jumped into the Sqaullo. I followed suit. Perhaps he had a plan?  
  
Tommy started the boat's engine, and it roared to life. We sped out of the Jetty and down the way the Reefer had escaped. We had caught up to the Reefer just as we passed the second large cargo ship along the west side of the island. Maria took notice of us as she was trying to help stop the Yardie's bleeding. She raised her Kahr 9 firing 3 shots at u. Tommy ducked as the windsheild shattered. He yelled at me over his shoulder and the roaring waves surrounding us. We were approahing the airport by now.  
  
" RIFLE.UNDER SEAT!" Was all I could make out but I understood. I turned around and tore the back seat up. Under it was another .22 similar to the one Sam was using. I picked it up and cocked it. I then took aim and fired.  
  
My shot didn't hit its target, which was the engine, instead thanks to a wave hitting us it hit the Wheel's steering cord. The steering wheel flew wildly out of the Yardie's hands. I saw Maria curse as she tried to get control of the wheel yet it was in fate's hands. They hit the hull of a capsized tropical and went flying. It crashed landed, its hull's fiberglass splintering. We also hit the hull and went flying. We stopped in the middle of the street in front of the airport after clipping a light pole. The reefer Maria was in slid to a stop in the middle of a small field next to a ridiculously large billboard advertising VC surfing. I pulled my self, my weapons and Tommy from the Sqaullo's wreckage as Maria ganked a red Walton.  
  
"STOP THAT TRUCK!" Tommy yeleld as he raised both his revolvers. He emptied the cylinders, the shots hitting the truck bed and shattering the back window. The Walton just sped away. "Dammit." Tommy said kicking the broken hull of the Sqaullo. People had started to gather around and watch us. A yellow cab with Kauffman Cab Co. printed on it's sides rolled up to us. The dirver looked at us out the passenger side window.  
  
"Mister V are you okay?" He asked in a thick Cuban accent.  
  
"No I'm not." He said yanking the passenger door open. "Some crazy bitch stole my money." He said as I got in the back. He slammed his door shut. The Cabbie looked like he had an idea.  
  
"Why not call the dispatcher to put a call out to the other cabs to keep a look out for her getaway vehicle?" He suggested helpfully. Tommy brightened up.  
  
"Pedro you're a fuckin' genius I swear." Tommy responded. " He picked up the Cab's CB transponder and spoke into it.  
  
"Car 10 to dispatch breaker, over." Tommy said. A few seconds later the reciever crackled in response.  
  
"Dispatch to Car 10." Came a voice over the Reciever. "Pedro you lazy bastard get out there and bust up some VC cabs or"  
  
"Mrs. K it's me, Tommy." Tommy responded used to that type of treatment. "I need you to put a call out to the other calls."  
  
"Ok." She responded. I head a few buttons click over the intercom as we sped down the road. "go ahead Tommy."  
  
"Calling all cars, I repeat Calling all cars." Tommy spoke into the transponder. " Be on look out for Caucasian Female, 20ish, black hair and Tanned skin. Driving a '86 red Walton pickup truck missing the back windshield. If found bring suspect to Vercetti estate for a reward." Tommy then clicked off the Transponder.  
  
"Aren't you worried about putting your driver's in harm's way?" I asked him.  
  
"Kid, I didn't have any gripes with your Ex when she broke into my house. But when you steal my money your ass is grass." He reloaded his revolvers. "Sides that my Cabbie's are armed."  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
I over looked the Greasy chopper across the street from the window of my Hermes. The place was seedy, drug deals and bar fights went down all the time, plus it was home of the infamous Mitch's Devils biker gang. I pulled my gat from my coat and checked the magazine from old habits. I then placed the gun in the glove box and got out of the Car.  
  
I crossed the street hurridley in the green tinted rain and up to the bar's steel door. I pulled it open and let myself into the Tobacco smoke filled atmosphere atmosphere. The place gave me an un-welcoming stare as I walked up to the bar. The bartender, a seedy looking man with oily hair was wiping a spotted shot glass with a dirty rag. I motioned for his attention.  
  
"I'd like to see Maria." I said to him.  
  
He nodded and led me through a steel door down a brick hallway, past another steel door. He led me to a chair at a table in the middle of the room. I took my seat and he left. A second later a light above the table clicked on and I could see an outline of a person. I could tell it was female due to the dangerous curves.  
  
"You must be the Hitman I presume?" She asked me in a Newyork style accent. I nodded my head. She slid a Manilla envelope across the table to me. I picked it up and opened it. In side were pictures of various people and their files. The pictures were of A man hanging out the driver's window of a Kuruma firing a .45 at a Diablo gang car, a black Man in a white suit standing next to a Maverick Helicopter, a young Cuban women starring in a porno called Buisiness before pleasure, a man in a blue Hawaiin shirt firing an MP5 at a Ammunatio firing range. Another black man crafting a car bomb in a grungy garage, a red haired ladies man clubbin' at the Malibu, an large cuban man eating in a resturaunt, an elderly man using a printing press in a large warehouse, a Cuban man sipping champagne on a large yacht, a Man with brown curly hair sititng at his desk filing court paperwork and a cowboy hat sporting buisiness man posing nifront of a alrge construction site finished the large pile of photos. I looked at the person.  
  
"The Vercetti's and their connections in Vice city." She responded to me. "You don't have to kill all of them just these two." She said circling the two guy's firing weapons in red. "The others you can kill for a bonus but they can be useful for tracking down Tommy Vercetti and his Nephew Michael." He tossed me a cellphone and I caught it. "use that to keep in contact with us for hardware and to tell us who've oyu gotten rid of." She said. I nodded, got up and left the bar. 


	7. The Snitch

The Land of Vice  
  
A/n: I don't own GTA rockstar does.  
  
The Land of Vice Chapter 7: The snitch  
  
The Kauffman Cab had brought us back to the Vercetti estate at dusk as a twilight sunset blazed off the mansion's mirrored windows. Tommy and I crawled up the long stone steps, tired and smelling of sour gun smoke. Lance was sitting at the mini-bar having a Beer with Mercedes when we got in. Tommy slumped down on a leather easy chair exhausted, I hopped up on a bar stool and got myself a Corona from the Bar. Lance looked puzzeled.  
  
"What happened man?" Lance asked Tommy.  
  
"Mike's crazy Ex showed up at the boat yards and shot it up." He said. " I think we might have lost this month's rent money. So we'll probably have to do some odd jobs here and there." He finished flipping the Tv on to a Rerun of Just the five of us. "Mike get me a beer." He asked me. I reached behind the bar and tossed him a Corona. He popped the otp off with his teeth.  
  
"Shit." Said Mercedes surprised. " Let me guess." She said turning to me. " A bad case of PMS?"  
  
I let out a weak chuckle. " Heh, probably. She wasn't like that when we were dating." I took a sip of my beer. " Whatever the case is, she probably wants my head on a stick." I turned to Tommy, vegging on the couch. " And has an eye on your empire."  
  
Tommy bolted up from his slumped position. " What do you mean?" He asked perplexed.  
  
" Don't get me wrong." I said. " Revenge is music to her ears. But if she can't take both me and you out she takes over the Vercetti crime ring."  
  
" What about Lance?" Piped up Mercedes. "It was originally stated in Tommy's will if he died Lance would take over the Vercetti crime ring."  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised if she used Lance to get to both of us." I said. " Hell she could use any one with connections to us. If she knew the right people."  
  
"So what do we do?" Lance asked.  
  
"Simple." Tommy finally said. "We take her out before she takes us out. I've seen it before with other street gangs. You cut off the head it's done for. In fact we could just take them all out with one swipe if we knew where they where."  
  
"Indeed." I said. "But ponder this, so far Maria has attacked us where ever we had gone in the city. How does she know where to find us?"  
  
" Yeah odd." Tommy said. "Maybe she has spies?"  
  
"Nope" I said. "Why should she train spies to slither into your mansion when she could pay someone off for the same price?"  
  
"Holy shit." Lance said, his eyes as big as dinner plates. "You mean.?"  
  
"Yep someone in this crime ring is a snitch." I said tossing my empty bottle out. "I've seen it before. In Liberty City the Mafia had information leaking out to the Cartel, it seems that a bartender that worked in their strip club was a snitch. They hired me to steal a cab, take him to where he rats the Mafia out and then kill him after I find out if he is."  
  
"So who's the snitch?" Mercedes asked.  
  
" Smith." Tommy said. " Robert E. Smith, I should have known."  
  
"Who's Robert E. Smith?" Lance asked.  
  
" He was that bomb maker who screwed up the timer at the Tar Brush Café." Tommy responded. " Me and Lance had to go in to bail all our asses out by fixing the timer."  
  
"Why would he leak info then?" I asked.  
  
" Well when he screwed up that bomb I cut his pay by 3 times." Tommy retorted. " Basically because of that he couldn't pay the Mortage, his wife took the kids and left him. He lives in a small apartment above the bowling alley downtown and his life sucks."  
  
"What else makes you think he's a rat?" Mercedes asked.  
  
" Well K cabs has been telling me he goes the mall parking structure a lot." Tommy responded. "Basically that's a good reason, I mean who goes to a parking structure just for kicks?:  
  
I nodded. "Good point. Now we flush him out."  
  
" How?" Lance asked finishing his beer.  
  
" The way the Mafia taught me." I said. " We wait till we see the white of his lies... or whatever it means to catch him in the act."  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
I looked up at the neon glow of the Malibu's sickly pastel pink sign. I sighed. I had no wish to go into this 80's retro style deathtrap, but time was money and to me the Vercetti's had a big price on their heads. I had taken some steel wire from the trunk of my car and placed it in my trench coat's pocket. I checked the Magazine on my Kahr again and took a deep breath. I then stepped over the threshold into the pastel colored hell.  
  
I'd been in some bad places before but this was bad. The whole place like I had mentioned before was themed 1980's retro with pastel colored pink and blue lights. Village people struted their stuff on a stage placed above a pit where angsty teens and mid-life train wrecks danced to old 80's tracks. I hated it. At the bar, which stocked pussy toned down alcohol sat a man also in his mid life crisis. I reconised him from the photos. His ilfe called him Kent Paul. He was known for being a washed up ladie's man and spent a majority of his time at this club still living in the 80's. he sat facing away from the bar. I sat down at a table for one biding my time for the best chance to strike. Kent then got up, stretched and walked to the restrooms. I followed suit and found him relieving himself in a urinal. He got done and started washing his hands when I struck.  
  
I took the steel wire from my pocket and wrapped it around his neck tightly. I then dragged him to an empty toilet stall and thread the cable up over a light fixture. I held the end of the cbale in one hand, careful not to break his neck and with my other hand I drew my pistol and shoved it in his face.  
  
"Tell me where the Vercetti's are." I demanded.  
  
Paul struggled to speak over his strangling. " I.I.don't know." He managed to sputter out."  
  
"Alright then" I said cocking my pistol. Kent panicked and then spat out:  
  
"K-Ken Rosenberg."  
  
"Rosenberg?" I responded. " Ok you may die now."  
  
I pulled the steel cable down and tied it to a pipe protruding from the wall to the toilet. A sickening crack echoed off the walls as Paul's neck broke.  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
I stoop low behind the low brick wall surrounding the perimeter of a Casa on Starfish island. From here I could see the Taxi pull up to the manors gate. A few seconds after I had dissappeared behind the wall a taxi had rolled off the bridge leading from the West island. As soon as it came up to the corner I stood on I jumped out in front of it my glock drawn. The VC cab screeched quickly to a halt, the bumper just a few inches from my head. I quickly got up and trained my handgun on the driver.  
  
"Get out." I said pulling him from the driver's seat. The Cabbie panicked and ran away back to the west island. I got in the taxi and gunned it down the road. I rolled to a stop infront of the gates as Smith got in. he was wearing a cheap lime green jacket and his hair was combed over. I shook my head in disgust.  
  
"Uh.where to?" I asked.  
  
"Hey you're not the usual driver." Smith said surprised. "Where's Barry?"  
  
"Uh he got sick." I mumbled. Smith just shrugged his shoulders. "Take me to the SUMO shipping depot on Randell road in Little Haiti."  
  
I nodded and did a u-turn back to the west island.  
  
(A/n: The place where Smith asked to go in the game is this place on a corner in little Haiti. There's a jump that leads to the Little Haiti Sparrow checkpoint mission around there. There are a bunch of shipping crates around back there between the ramp and the building the chopped sits on.)  
  
We had reached what appeared to be under construction building. Smith told me to park on the side of the building and wait until he got back. I nodded as he disappeared behind some shipping crates. I took out my Glock and cocked it, Tommy soon had got in the back seat, wielding a Mossberg M500. He and Lance followed us in a White Infernus.  
  
"Is he in there?" Tommy asked racking a shell into his shotgun.  
  
"Probably." I said checking the magazine on my Glock. "There's probably a tradesmen door hidden behind those containers. Either that or it's a rendevous point behind there.oh here he comes."  
  
Smith had reappeared holding a fat envelope. Tommy crouched down low in the seat not to be spotted. I got my gun ready. Smith got in the car slamming the door. Tommy shoved his shotgun in his face. Smith jumped in surprised.  
  
"Uh.hey Tommy." He said awkwardly looking around the cab.  
  
"Save it Smith." Tommy said clicking the safety off his gun. "What are you doing coming way out here."  
  
"Oh uh I was just uh.picking my unemployment check up." He said holding up the fat envelope. Tommy yanked it from his grasp pulling his shotgun away from Smith's face. At that moment Smith drew a S&W Revolver on Tommy. Tommy looked uncaring as I shoved my Glcok in his face. Smith sighed dropping his revolver back on the floor. Tommy shook his head a bit amused, I tore open the envelope pulling out 50 grand.  
  
"Well, Smith lemme guess what's this for?" Tommy asked putting the money in his shirt pocket. "Selling some of my secrets?"  
  
"Hey Tommy get this." Smith responded. "You dropped my pay like a rock when I screwed up one little switch. So I lost my family and my life sucks."  
  
"Too bad." I said clicking my gun's safety off. "There is no room in the Vercetti crew for failure."  
  
"Well guess what kid." Smith said tightening his tie "Maria says bye."  
  
My eyes widened just at that moment when an SUV's tires came screeching down the road. A black Landstalked stopped on our right side, Maria at the wheel. She looked at me. I looked at her.  
  
"Hubba hubba hubba." She said.  
  
I jumped out of the car as two yardies fired at with Uzi's us from the Landstalker. Tommy used Smith as a shield from the shower of bullets killing Smith. I ran around to the back of the landstalker drawing my Berretta. I fired akimbo, emptying the magazines into the rear windshield of the vehicle. Maria ducked down as all I managed to hit was a yardie in the back of the head. She threw the Suv into reverse. I fell backwards under the Suv. I reinserted a fresh clip into my Glock. And fired up into under carriage. My shots dispatched the last tow yardies in the car, the one in the front and the one in the back. I rolled out from under the SUV. I pulled myself up looking down the Barrel of Maria's Kahr 9mm. She grinned at me from the passenger's as she pulled the trigger. I waited for it.  
  
Click  
  
I smiled as Maria tried to un-jam her gun. I smiled and raised mine. Just then I heard the loud screeching of a Pcj-600. I looked down the road as the bike roared towards me. I jumped out of the way just in time. Maria started the engine of Her suv and sped off. I dusted myself off. Tommy walked up to me as the Car turned the corner out of sight. He took a ciggarete from my pocket and lit it.  
  
"What a nut." He said.  
  
"Yeah." I said reloading my Berretta. "And to think I dated her."  
  
We walked off down the street to Lance's car leaving Smith lying dead in the street. 


	8. Tabloid Tantrums

The Land of Vice  
  
A/n: Disclaimer blah blah blah  
  
The Land of Vice Chapter 8: Tabloid Tantrum  
  
"You know kid we should have waited until we had found out what Smith told Maria." Tommy said as we climbed the steps up to the Vercetti manor. " I mean what if he told her the date of our gun run?"  
  
" Well what can she really do?" I asked him. "The Yardies aren't what you call financially secured, heck they drive lobo's for Pete's sake."  
  
Tommy looked at me funny. "Don't ever say Pete's sake again."  
  
"Yes sir." I responded. I looked around. "So uhm how did you get this Cortez guy to give you this kind of firepower?" I asked him.  
  
"Well I did some favors for him back in 86, before he fled town." Tommy said kicking at an empty soda can. It flew down the steps.  
  
"Ah." I said. "Hey can I borrow your bike?" I asked. "I wanna go check up on eightball."  
  
Tommy handed me a set of keys. "Knock yourself out." He said tossing away his ciggarette butt. " If you wreck it, it doesn't matter. I can buy a thousand of them."  
  
I nodded and jogged down the steps. At the bottom I turned the corner and pressed a button next to the door. The garage door swung open idely. Tommy didn't really keep a lot of cars in his garage. Mostly all his cars were kept in a hangar next to the house. He had almost every car imaginable, even gang cars customized to a T. Inside his two car garage though was a Moped and a Pcj-600. I passed the dusty scooter and hopped onto the bike starting it up. I then sped out of the garage and past the gates over to the east island.  
  
Instead of calling Vice city general hospital Tommy had called an ambulance from is "personal" hospital. It was a medium sized building on the ocean beach strip. It was converted from a hotel to a private hospital with sufficient funding and many bribes. The building itself was kept from prying eyes by various under construction billboards. The inside was a full running hospital, equipped with some of the best surgeons and doctors in the world. More of Tommy's protection squad mulled around uselessly, toting Uzi's. I took the elevator up to the second floor where 8's room was. I walked into his room. It was the size of about a hotel room, decorated very nice. Eightball seemed fine. He was sitting up at a table reading the paper. He noticed me walk in and turned his attention to me.  
  
"So the kid stays in the picture." He said smugly motioning at the Vice Weekly (a crooked tabloid) on the table in front of him. I picked up the paper, the headline read;  
  
GANG SHOOT OUT AT BOAT YARDS  
  
At 3 p.m. yesterday a violent shootout broke out today at the VC boatyards. Bullets flew between the Vercetti crime family and a rival Jamacian/ Haitian mix gang calling themselves "The White Yakuza". The firefight lasted for several minutes, killing two local boys known as Travis Stanton and Sam Washington plus several Men known as "The Mario's" a Vercetti crime Family protection sqaud.  
  
The shootout eventually made its way onto the ocean, finally crashing to a violent stop in front of Escobar international. Eye-witnesses spotted a Italian skinned Women leaving the scene in a red pickup truck, as with THE Thomas Vercetti and an unknown acomplice were seen fleeing the scene also. The body count rises in Vice city, along with this firefight there has been other shootings ass well since Monday or Tuesday. A Drive by killing Hatian Kingpin "auntie Poulet, a high speed chase killing two more of The White Yakuza gang members, a Ex-Police officer from Liberty city found dead in his bathroom, and a John Doe found dead in a running taxi in little Haiti. The police are working together with the FBI in order to find out who is responsible for these Onsluaghts of shootings.  
  
I threw the paper back at Eightball. He looked at me. I looked at him.  
  
"Ok fine!" I said. "I had a hand in those shootouts. But hey Maria started them."  
  
"Yeah." Said Eightball. "Leave it to a white boy to have such a horrible aim to miss with a shotgun."  
  
"Yeah well, I need to get these tabloids out of Vercetti Buisiness." I said running my hand through my hair.  
  
"Goin' downtown Fido?" He asked, yawning.  
  
"Yeah." I said. "I have to see a guy about a horse."  
  
"Bring me back a bottle of Jack Daniels."  
  
I nodded and left the room. Not knowing that was the last time I would ever see Eightball again.  
  
Vice weekly was printed in a dingy little office in downtown vice, where an old record store called Rock city was. The office itself was a grungy little place. Smelling of ink and Stale coffee, it wasn't very welcoming. I figured it needed some home improvement, So I guess I'd take out one of their walls for them.  
  
.With a 16 wheel flatbed.  
  
The Truck slammed into the glass-plated front office, glass shards flying everywhere. People ducked behind their cubicles in shock. A small balding man wearing a Tran-sparent green visor scurried out from his small office. I hopped out of the truck. The man in the visor (obviously the Editor) took notice of me, and scuttled over obviously angered.  
  
"Listen you, you, YOU INFIDEL." He screamed furious with me. His face was turning red. "You're in some deep shit, I don't know who you are but you are in the deepest pile of shit ever."  
  
I rolled my eyes. I knew this conversation well.  
  
"Bitch, you don't even know what deep shit is." I said tossing my smoke away.  
  
The editor looked apauled. I cracked my knuckles and gave him a complimentry sand which with my fist. He fell backwards over a desk. I walked up to him pulling my gun out of my pant's waist band, shoving it in his face.  
  
"Listen you punk ass tabloid shark." I said cocking my Berretta. "If I ever hear anything about the Vercetti's in your toilet paper magazine ever again, you'll be getting aqauinted with what your brains look like splattered all over the wall. You hear me?"  
  
The editor nodded in shock. I nodded back and let go of him. I walked out of the small once an office and onto the Street. Tabloid tantrums were just hot air.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  
  
Next chapter: Running guns 


	9. Running Guns done dirt cheap

The Land of Vice  
  
A/n: Blah I don't own it. Now Dowriter 12, are you the only one who's reading my story? On with the show.  
  
The Land of Vice Chapter 9: Running guns  
  
I didn't like bridges they usually freaked me out. I mean you're telling me my life is saved by 20 tons of steel rebarb? Oh wait.scratch that. So anyway Cortez's boat hit the mainland with a stock load of weapons. A few Sub guns, some 9's a few revolvers, and assault rifles, the usual shit. Uzi's and Dynamite, all loaded up into two boxvilles. I didn't appreciate riding with this type of firepower, seeing as how I could go boom quickly. I had no other choice though, Tommy didn't want me riding with our escorts in the stinger up front so I rode with him and Lance in the lead van.  
  
BOOM!  
  
We were halfway across the bridge when an explosion rocked the bridge. The Van behind us fell over on it's side as the rode crumbled away from beneath it. Lance swerved our van to the left, so it blocked the road coming from the west island. We got out to investigate, guards of the Vercetti family pulled themselves from the overturned van as the Lead stinger turned around coming back towards us.  
  
"What the hell happened you dumbass?!?" roared Tommy pulled up a guard by his shirt's lapel. The guard just shrugged his shoulders.  
  
" I dunno Mister Vercetti!" he said dumbfounded. "We checked the bridge for explosives before we went over it!"  
  
Quentin got on his stomach next to the hole and felt under it. A moment later he pulled out a burnt scrap of god knows what.  
  
"C4." He said holding it up to the flourescent lighting of a nearby lamppost. "It was built inside the bridge itself!" Tommy took the scrap from Vance looking at it confused. A second later his eyes went wide as dinner plates.  
  
" Shit." He said dropping the scrap on the sidewalk.  
  
" TAKE COVER!"  
  
As soon as he yelled that a black patriot slammed into the van we were riding in. The vehicle sidewinded itself, flinging weapons everywhere and landed on its side. Tommy pulled me to the side just before it toppled me. It passed the second van and spun around doing an 180. We took cover behind the smashed van. The driver of the Hummer reved it's engine. I drew my guns, Tommy his twin revolver's. The Vercetti guards scrambled about looking for cover.  
  
"Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!"  
  
The Patriot roared at us plowing it the second van knocking it into the hole, but it didn't fall through all they way. An unfortunate guard got pulled under the truck. Tommy jumped out from behind the van, firing his pistols at the Truck. Gunshots spattered the windshield along with crimson blood as the Hummer flipped over landing a few yards away from me. My Glock flew out of my hand into the ocean, all I had was my Beretta. I looked around confused, trying to see in the clearing dust. And then-  
  
"Thwap!"  
  
A swift pistol whip to the side of my head, the-  
  
" Swooop Pow!"  
  
A swift kick to my groin, courtesy of a Stiletto heel. I looked up doubled over in pain, and I found myself starring down the barrel of a gun.a Kahr 9 to be exact.  
  
" Oh have the mighty have fallen." A female voice spoke from the other end of the handgun. I struggled to lift my gun, but another kick sent it flying across the road.  
  
" Maria.you bitch." I struggled to speak. "You pay for this you slut."  
  
That got me another kick to my boys.  
  
"Shut it Fido." She said cocking her gun. "The white Yakuza own this town now."  
  
She pulled the trigger on her gun. I thought a million things at once, my life flashed before my eyes. It wasn't pleasant mind you, but I knew one thing. Maria's gun would not jam this time.  
  
"BAM!"  
  
I was dead. I had to be dead, the gunfired.but dead people don't think. I opened my eyes and watched as Tommy smacked Maria across her face breaking her jaw. They were struggling to reach my Beretta lying next to the curb. I looked around as they fought, yet I could barely move. Tommy reached for the gun and trained it on Maria, she gripped the barrel refusing to die. I saw her 9mm laying on the sidewalk to my right. Just when I grabbed it I heard a gunshot.  
  
"BLAM!"  
  
I looked over in horror, as gut shot Tommy slumped over holding the barrel to his stomach. Maria's finger was on the trigger.  
  
"YOU BITCH!!!!!!" I screamed as I started firing the small 9mm at Maria. She ran dodging all of my shots but one, which tripped her as she fell into the ocean. Just then my mind started going hazy and everything went black.  
  
END PART ONE 


	10. starting up a brand new day

The Land of Vice  
  
A/n: Action! Adventure! Revelations! Guns! The Fic that changed the face of GTA fiction forever! Or at least that's what I claim. Hear what my imaginary critic friends have to say about the land of Vice;  
  
" Witty, fast and action packed. Such as a Guy richie or Quentin Terantino film!"  
  
" You'll laugh, you'll cry, You'll piss your pants from all the gunslinging."  
  
" est' hablos si senorita"  
  
"I still think this kid is a faggot"  
  
The Land of Vice Chapter 10: Starting up a brand new day  
  
I woke up, my head pounding.  
  
I had no clue as to where I was or if I was alive. But then I remembered that dead people cant think, so I scratched that possibility out. I looked at my surroundings and found everything was white and blurry. And there was a constant annoying beeping. I wished it would go away but it wouldn't. Just then a door opened and someone wearing stiletto heels walked in, the shoes tapping on the floor. I freaked out and fell off of what I was laying on biting the tile floor.  
  
" Your too jumpy Mikey."  
  
I suddenly remembered that voice. It was Mercede's. I pulled myself up falling back on the bed.  
  
"Shit where am I Mercedes?" I asked rubbing the back of my head.  
  
"Your in the Vercetti family private hospital." She said sitting down. "How are you doing?"  
  
"Shit my head Is about to explode and I everything is blurry." I said searching for my ciggretes, but finding out all I was wearing we're my boxer shorts. " Either way, I'm fine how about you?"  
  
"Just fucking dandy." She said. "You know Vice city is under martial law. That little explosion on the bridge is being blamed on the Vercetti family so they shut down the rest of the bridges temporarily."  
  
"Damn." I said looking around, regaining my vision. "Guess I can't go kick Maria's ass now. Hey what happened to the weapons?"  
  
"Those Jamacian pricks came in and raided the trucks." She responded calmly. "They took the guns and ran."  
  
" Where the hell are my clothes?" I asked getting up.  
  
"Over there." She responded motioning to a table next to the window. I walked over and picked up my green cargo pants, pulling them on roughly. Just then Quentin walked in.  
  
" Oh am I interrupting something?" he asked, blushing. I shook my head and finished putting my clothes back on and found Mercedes had left me a present.  
  
" For me?" I asked holding up the sleek M92F by its barrel. Mercedes nodded.  
  
" Yeah that Maria chick stole your chrome plated one and your Glock melted from a fire that happened when the bridge blew up, I took the liberty of heading to the Ammu-nation in Ocean beach for you guys." She said as I slammed a fresh clip into the gun. " Considering we can't get back to Vercetti estate until martial law is lifted, we'll just have to make do with what we have." She finished. Lance nodded checking his handgun in his shoulder holster, which I noticed was a different piece.  
  
" New heater?" I asked buttoning my black shirt halfway and rolling the sleeves up. Lance nodded.  
  
" Yep, Smith and Wesson 9mm. Less powerful but holds more." He said chamberign a round and putting it back in it's holster. "I got another one in my waist band, like freakin' Mr. White from reservoir dogs. And the slugs are cheap."  
  
I nodded, putting my own pistol in my waistband. Lance walked out of the door so I followed.  
  
" Hey how's Uncle Tommy?" I asked when we were in the hall. Lance straightened his jacket and continued walking.  
  
"He's been in surgery for 2 hours." Lance spoke over his shoulder as he pressed the down button on the elevator. "The doctor's say he has a slim chance of making it, but at least it's a chance."  
  
We got off on the ground floor passing the Protection squad and their Uzi's and out into the bright sunlight. I covered my hand over my eyes to keep from squinting. Lance took his car keys from his pocket and unlocked his Infernus.  
  
" Hey where are we goin' anyway?" I asked.  
  
" To see an old friend of mine." He responded getting into the sports car.  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
I saw it on the News.  
  
The south bridge blowing up, the Vercetti's presumed dead.  
  
I knew my Job was over. I'd only be making 6 grand on this job. I iced that guy at the printing works and that ladies man. They were worth 3 g's each. If I had gotten the two Vercetti's Tommy and Mike I could have made 50 grand.  
  
Yet I didn't.  
  
It's odd. When you're a kid you know exactly what you wanted to be when you grew up. But most of the time you end up working in a cubicle 40 hours a week.  
  
I remember I wanted to be a doctor.  
  
Heh.  
  
And yat I becaome part of the death rate problem. Well I can't a new car but I can pay this month's rent.  
  
And life goes on. And I start up a brand new day. A new contract killing another 6 grand to put food in my belly. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	11. Flogging the rats

The Land of Vice  
  
A/n:[insert BRJ's bitching about disclaimers and about how he can call the white yakuza the white yakuza if he wants. And then don't forget a dash of "useless debating with that guy over the damn M16, and top it off with an on with the show]  
  
The Land of Vice Chapter 11: Flogging Rats  
  
" You sure this is safe?" I asked Lance looking down the dark tunnel.  
  
"No but were using it anyway." He responded taping plastic bags to his feet. I shook my head putting my gun in a ziplock bag and taping my feet in plastic bags.  
  
"Now remember." Paul instructed Lance. " If the tunnel collapses don't panic, you're fucked either way."  
  
Right now your probably confused who this Paul guy is and what the hell we're doing. Well meet Paul Ruebens, the Vercetti family gun smuggler. Respectfully retired at his ripe age of 35. Paul now lives in an abandoned pay and spray in Vice point. And what are we doing exactly? Well we're about to walk a mile through a secret underwater tunnel. Don't ask. It's the only way to the west island.  
  
I slid off the last rung of the old steel ladder, kicking myself for how stupid I am to go along with Lance's plan. I'll fucking kill myself, going down here. Lance followed suit as Ruebens closed the hatch behind us. The tunnel was long, but decently lit. There was a row of lights stringing across the walls at the ceiling and next to the ground. Half a foot of water filled the tunnel, caused by small leaks dripping from the ceiling.  
  
" We'll shall we push forward?" Lance asked straightening his jacket. I shook my head. We started down the tunnel, wading through the ankle high water. When we were halfway through from the looks of it, Lance whipped his gun from his holster and fired a shot into the water. I stumbled back pissed off.  
  
" What the heel was that?!?" I exclaimed.  
  
" Something brushed pass my leg. I looked behind me to see a jet black Rat scamper away along the brick work.  
  
" Probably a fuckin' rat." I responded as Lance put his 9 away. We continued on, wary of rats. Until we reached the end of the tunnel, a rusting steel ladder leading to a rusting steel hatch. I climbed the rungs and tried the hatch. It was stuck pretty well.  
  
" Shit." I aid jumping off the Ladder. "Can't open the damn thing."  
  
" Let me try mine." Lance replied pulling a door charge from the insides of his jacket.  
  
" Aw c'mon man, a door charge ain't gunna open that thing. It's shut tighter than a crab's ass.  
  
Lance just shrugged his shoulders and attached the charge to the hatch setting it for 6 seconds. We backed up as the charge blew the hatch straight off it's hinges. Dust and bits of metal flew everywhere. Lance just dusted himself off and continued up the ladder. I looked at him in shock.  
  
" My own recipe." He replied to my shocked look.  
  
The rusted hatch led to the bowels of an abandoned apartment building. It seemed the tunnel was supposed to be reserved for the fat political cat's bomb shelter, they would cower underground as their people died fighting back. The shelter itself was rusting and degrading, old can food lined the selves and cots lay dusty and unused. We found a freight elevator, bullet proof and radiation proof. It ascended amazingly to another short narrow radioactive proof hallway. This place can't and never will be used, that and someone let the generator running. After the hallway we found ourselves in the boiler room. It was dark and dim. We gave ourselves 10 minutes of fumbling around in the dark we found a door and our way out into the Gray rainy skies.  
  
We needed to be mobile if we wanted to find the White Yakuza. Lance had a simple solution to our epidemic.  
  
And luckily there were no cops standing around when he busted out a Manana's Window with a pair of brass knuckles.  
  
" I guess you used to boost?" I asked him getting into the passenger seat. He took out a switchblade and hot-wired the car. It hummed to life.  
  
" Kid I'm one of the original kings of car jacking." He stated flipping his blade shut. He put the car in gear cruising down the main drag of the west- island. I looked around at the buildings, searching for a red LOBO.  
  
" Well do you see any-" lance's question was cut off as we rear ended a Yardie Lobo. I was shocked to hell, as it had happened down the street from Pete's bike emporium near the place where Tommy and I Iced Smith. Lance got out of the car, brass knuckles in hand. I followed suit with a tire iron I found in the back seat. For the second time today Lance busted out a car window. He pulled the driver (a Jamacian) out through the broken window and shoved his gun in his face.  
  
" What the fuck you doin' mon?" Demanded the Yardie, pissed off as I busted out the other window and opened the door. I ran my hands along the leopard skinned interior, coming up with nothing but a MAC-10 submachine gun and a bag of dope. I stuffed the weapon in my belt and cut open the bag, spilling it on the ground.  
  
"Well?" Asked Lance, his gun still digging a hole in the Yardie's neck. I shook my head. Lance shook his and pulled the Yardie up. I went to the back of the Manana and popped the trunk, Lance threw the Jamacian inside cuffing his hands.  
  
" What the hell iz goin' on mon'?" he asked confused.  
  
" Tommy Vercetti sends his regards." I replied closing the trunk lid like some hitman from pulp fiction.  
  
The Police had arrived quickly enough but considering we were down the street from the Downtown Precint. Lance Drew both his guns as the first car came. He jumped out from behind the Manana and fired Akimbo, Blood splattering the wind shield killing the two cops inside. Then another cop ran over to us to join in the carnage, I pistol whipped him and fired 3 shots into him. Then 2 more cop cars showed up.  
  
" I think we should leave." Lance said getting into the passenger's seat of the Manana. I nodded getting into the driver's seat. I hit it in high gear, the two joined by another cop car tailing me. 2 cars snuck up on each sides of me, the passenger in the cruiser to my left wielding a shotgun. On instinct I hit the brakes just as the one on the left fired. The shot missed our car barely and hit the one to the right killing its driver. The car went out of control clipping a telephone pole, and landing on its back. When I hit my brakes though the cop car behind me rear-ended me on accident, wielding a muffled scream by our passenger in the trunk.  
  
I had made it up to the leaf links' bridge and pulled a right, driving over the median and made another u turn onto the bridge. Roaring past the police barricade The cop car that had tried to cap my door with a load of buckshot had pulled up to my left again, racking another shell and taking aim. I rammed the cruiser onto the bridge's median. The cop car flipped over onto its back sending sparks flying everywhere.  
  
We came off of the bridge, now just being trailed by one cruiser. He sped up to me on my left side and started screaming into his megaphone.  
  
" STOP YOU SONOVABITCH."  
  
We past the gate leading into the country club.  
  
".YOU'RE BREAKING THE LAW!"  
  
The cop never got to finish his sentence as he slammed into a trashamster picking up the morning's garbage from Leaf Link's golf course. The rammed into the garbage truck head on, metal grinding against metal and glass shattering and killing the cop inside. We drove out the other exit of the country club heading past Mercede's apartment to Paul's place. We dumped to Manana in the PAY n' spray's garage as Paul walked out of his office. He took a look at the car.  
  
" What the hell happened?" he asked us as Lance reloaded his weapons.  
  
" Ah ran into a little trouble downtown. But we got ourselves a little souveneir." Replied Lance popping the trunk lid. The Jamacian crawled his way out of the trunk, his left arm broken in three places from the rear ending. He fell out of the trunk onto the cold hard cement. Ruebens wasn't impressed. He twiddled his large handle bar Moustache.  
  
" What the shit is this?" He asked staring repulsively at the Moaning Jamacian. " It's a fuckin' Jamacian stoner get him the hell out of my shop."  
  
" No can do Ruebens." I stated lighting up a cigarette. " We need this prick to get the Flush out the white Yakuza, so do us a favor and tie him up."  
  
" Yeah and get rid of this car." Lance Replied over his shoulder as we walked out the door.  
  
"Yeah? What's in it for me?" Ruebens shot back as the doro swung shut behind us.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	12. Sniper on the roof

The Land of Vice  
  
A/n: As some say all things must come to an end.soon. But not this story. Some of your reviews have asked me some questions here is one I keep getting,  
  
Why are they called the White Yakuza when they're black.  
  
Because I can call them that. Also Dowriter12 stop asking me whats going to happen before it happens. I won't tell you either way.  
  
The Land of Vice Chapter 12: Sniper on the roof!  
  
" So what are we gonna do with the Yardie?" I asked Lance as we walked outside. The sky was still gray outside.  
  
" Simple." Said Lance popping the trunk to his Infernus. He pulled out a can of gasoline and a sling blade. " Ever see Reservoir dogs?"  
  
BAM!  
  
I jumped to my right as a bullet whizzed past my ear. Lance opened the passenger side door and ducked behind it s 2 more shots peppered the door. I took cover behind the driver's side door, figuring it was bullet proof.  
  
" 'What the hell was that?" he yelled at me through his side of the car. I shrugged my shoulders.  
  
" Probably a sniper." I yelled back. 5 more shots hit my door. I figured this guy was using a PSG-1. I poked my head from behind the door out far enough to see the black outline of a figure on the roof to my left. The figure aimed and took a shot at me as I pulled my head back in quickly, barely missed.  
  
" Yeah it's a sniper alright." I responded casually.  
  
BAM BAM  
  
Two more shots echoed in the empty street. I watched as Lance drew both of his guns.  
  
" What the hell are you doing?" I asked him. " I'm gonna distract him while you drive around the corner where the stairs to that roof are." He responded checking his gun's magazines. I shook my head.  
  
" No way man." I said, resting my back against the door. " What if he gets me while I'm in the car?"  
  
BAM  
  
Another shot. Lance shook his head. " You'll be fine, it's bullet proof so it can take a few shots. Just enough shots for you to get around the corner." He replied, finished with reloading his weapons. I sighed and got into the driver's side closing the door.  
  
BAM  
  
Another shot rang out, hitting the windshield, it did not shatter luckily. I threw the car in gear and roared around the corner. At the front of the building where to staircases facing each other. They led to a balcony which hosted another staircase. I ran up the right stair case and then up the roof stairs. I drew my pistol and pressed my back against the wall. Peeking around the corner I spotted the sniper, lying on his stomach near the roof's ledge with his rifle take another shot at Lance.  
  
BAM  
  
For second there I thought Lance bit the bullet. But a moment later I heard a volley of 9mm shots echo from the streets. The Sniper ducked behind the ledge taking cover, which I took advantage of. Cocking my pistols I jumped out from behind the staircase housing and drew my gun on the sniper.  
  
" FREEZE MOTHERFUCKER!" I screamed at him. The sniper taken by surprised threw his rifle down and stood up, his hands in the air. He was 5'8 with dirty blonde Hair, kinda looked like Matt Damon, but I don't like going into detail. He wore a black suit and tie like some reservoir dog. I knew this guy was a hit man. He snorted at me.  
  
" What are you? Some kinda' cop?" he asked me as a matter of factly. I shook my head.  
  
" No I'm death and you're on my list." I responded, my finger tensing on the Berretta's trigger. As soon as I had said "Death" the Sniper's eyes widened and he jumped back as I took a shoot at him, which missed. He sat up and started firing madly at me with what look like Colt Officer model's, which I guess were hidden up his sleeve's. I dodged his shots and took cover behind a air conditioning housing. I pressed my back up against the housing. A second later the Hit man jumped out form behind the wall on my left, which he was faster as he had his guns aimed at my head in no time.  
  
" Well if it isn't my lucky day." He said cocking his .45's. " I whack Michael Vercetti instead of Lance Vance. Say good night Mike."  
  
CLICK  
  
Both of his guns jammed at the same time. I was pretty damn lucky. In no time I pistols whipped him and had him down on the ground, out cold. If Maria had hired this guy to pull a hit on me maybe I could get some answers out of him instead of that Yardie.  
  
" AHHH! SONOVABITCH! WOULD YOU FUCKIN' STOP- ARGGGGGGGH!"  
  
I winced every time the Hit man let out a scream of pain. Lance was in the next room "introducing" him to "baseball". Ruebens on the other hand was intent on showing me some type of contraption he had found on the hit man's wrists.  
  
" Man these are fucking clever I tell you. Man, these things respond to your muscle movements." He said showing me the odd arm band as we sat at his kitchen table in the pay and spray. I lit up a smoke.  
  
" Yeah so how do they work?" I asked snapping my Zippo shut. Paul continued on.  
  
" Well when you do a wrist movement, it tenses a muscle. The trigger is very sensitive so when the muscle tenses up it releases the trigger." He took a sip of his beer. "Now the trigger re-leases a spring which pops out, the weapons themselves pop out from under the sleeves. Basically I think this guy is some kind of engineer to build something this complex."  
  
" ARGGGGH MY FUCKIN' TOE! YOU CUT OFF MY DAMN TOE!"  
  
" It will be the whole foot next time asshole."  
  
I got up from the table and walked into the back room. It was a mess. On the side of the room where there were no cstacks of cardboard boxes occupying the wall, the Yardie lied on a piece of cardboard bruised, bleeding and broken. In the Middle off the room Stood Lance, his suit covered in blood as well as his switch blade in his left hand. In his right was a bloody toe. Sitting tied to a chair was the Hitman. His face was bruised and battered, blood poured from his nostrils and where his big toe on his left foot was. His white shirt was stained crimson with blood and his face had tons of cuts on it. Lying on a cardboard box in the corner, were his two guns, his jacket and his shoes and sock. I pulled a chair up and sat down. I fished a ciggarette from behind my ear and put it in his mouth, lighting it for him.  
  
" So you ready to talk now?" I asked him taking a puff on my cig. His head drooped low  
  
" Lucky strikes aren't my brand." He responded tiringly. I shook my head.  
  
" Well if that's the case, were gonna have to leave you alone with Lance for a little while longer." At that Lance pulled out a small sledge hammer from behind his back, and seeing this the Hitman's eyes widened.  
  
" No I'll talk! I'll talk!" I pleaded. I shook my head at Lance and he walked away into the kitchen.  
  
" So what will we talk about?' I asked him. " Perhaps the weather, sports, politics, Maria's hideout maybe?"  
  
The Hitman shook himself awake. " I know a place." he said. " on prawn island, where I've gotten my pay for each hit from her."  
  
" Ah." I said taking another puff. " So where is it on prawn island?"  
  
The Hitman's head drooped a bit. " The Shark's Estates across from global studios." He responded. " Thats the only place I know of."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	13. Payback

The Land of Vice  
  
A/n: well this chapter maybe the last. I don't really know considering I'm on a writer's block.  
  
The Land of Vice Chapter 13: Payback  
  
Well since Tommy was shot everyone in the unit hoped for his recovery.  
  
Well we got screwed over by that. It seems Tommy went into coma after the surgery, now he's lying in a hospital bed in his private hospital. Lance had taken temporary control over the Vercetti crime ring. I had no care really, 8 ball disappeared from the Hospital and Phil was probably dead by now. I had nothing in Liberty, no empire to build up. And the Vercetti Empire was in chaos. I had only one thing on my mind right now.  
  
Revenge.  
  
It all made sense now. I wanted to exact my revenge on Maria, she shot my uncle my only flesh and blood left alive, And put him in coma. She destroyed my chance of becoming a Made man. So I was gonna get one over on her.  
  
I knew the Vercetti weapons lockup was at the bottom of the spiral staircase. I could get some wares out of there but one problem. A bullet/fireproof armored safe door stood in my way, so I'd have to crack. I've never really cracked safes before, I've watched people in bank heists but usually then I'm a stickman. I knew I had to press my ear against the door and turn the dial, listening to clicks. Which was what I exactly did.  
  
Click, click and click  
  
I got the combo right after 3 tries. I pulled the large handle down and walked into the well-lit gun lock-up. I was surprised, there were more guns here than there were at Phil's place. On both sides of the room were racks holding Rifles and shotguns, stacked on top of each other in twos. Above the racks were various handguns and Uzi's on hooks, Magnums, 9's .45's they were all their. At the back of the room was a work- table for maintenance, cleaning and modifying. Above it hung a glass case sporting a few choice weapons; Rpg's and below it were boxes of ammunition. I was like a kid in a candy store, and I got to work. I looked to the gun rack on my right and chose a chrome plated Remington 870 pump action shot gun. I also hose a sawn off Double barreled Remington. On the gun rack to my left, which held the rifles I chose my old buddy Ak-47, but then opted for a Scarface style M16 with an M203 Grenade launcher. I chose a couple of Colt .45's, S&W 9mm's like Lance's and a black steel Magnum revolver like the one in payback. I broke into the case and pulled an M72A1 portable rocket launcher from the case and slung it over my shoulder. I pulled out a box which contained bullet proof vest. I chose a nice one which featured pockets.  
  
Loaded down with weapons I walked out of the Vercetti estate. I needed a vehicle, seeing as the car hanger next to the estate was locked by a keypad, I had to steal one. I forgot the feel of ganking a car. Prawn island had a good selection. Cross the street from the manner, on the corner of Prawn's main street and back street, there was a house. In the drive of the house was a nice black cheetah. I pulled out my switch blade and snapped it open. Luckily the door was unlocked. I slid into the leather interior and reached under behind the steering column, I gave it a yank and a bundle of wires fell out. I cut a few and connected the green wire to the yellow wire.  
  
Success came when the car started with a nostalgic vroom! I placed my bag of weapons on the passenger seat and put the car into 1st gear. Slowly inching out the short drive, I pulled out onto the bride over to Vice point. The street's were crowded, so weaved in and out of passing jalopies, revenge fueling me. finally making my way over a bride, a sign hanging above it read;  
  
PRAWN ISLAND, VICE CITY  
  
I sped past under the sign and parked in front of the estates, on the middle outside part of the walls surrounding them. I took a deep breath and got out of the stolen vehicle, picking my weapons up off the passenger side seat. I walked up the curved hill, unslinging my M72 and loading a rocket into it. I popped it open and shouldered it, taking inconsiderate aim.  
  
KASHOOOOOOOOM!  
  
The rocket flew out of the barrel with lightening speed and smashed into the side of the main house. The porch's roof gave way and cave in from the explosion. On cue a dozen yardies and haitians ran out, automatics drawn and screaming. I dropped the launcher and hefted my assault rifle and started pumping rounds at them. Bullets sprayed out of the gun and hit them all in the guts, legs, and arms killing them. a Shark Burrito gang van drove up. I aimed the thumbcutter on the M16 and pulled the trigger, a grenade propelled itself from the launcher and hit the truck, it burst into the flames. I fired a few more shots at the van and it blew up, the explosion propelling it 2 feet in the air.  
  
From the second story balcony of the first house came half a dozen Yardies and sharks, Uzi's aimed at my head. I jumped out of the way of flying bullets and hid behind the fountain showcased in the middle of the circle. Stone rained down and 9mm slugs plowed their way through statue on the fountain. I reloaded my assault rifle's magazine, then pulled the grenade launcher tube forward, ejecting the spent shell and popped in a new one pulling the tube back. As soon as the guys on balcony stopped firing, I spun out from behind the statue and fired the Grenade at them. The 40mm explosive slug hit the wall behind them, shrapnel propelled from the blast sent the shooters flying over the balcony wall. They all landed on the pavement with a sickening thud.  
  
I reloaded the launcher again and stepped out from behind the statue. Keeping my rifle's stock tucked under my arm, I walked past the dead White Yakuza. I walked up to the main mansion's front door and pushed on it, which fell over. I walked inside taking a gander. The place was even in worst shambles then outside. Holes punched in the stucco walls, tables over turned, lamps busted, tables lay broken, and a large portatrait at the top of the stairs was ripped in two. Two yardies toting Mossberg shotguns ran out of a room on the right side of the room. Without raising the rifle, I fired form the hip cutting them down. Crumpled and fell where they stood.  
  
And then she walked down the steps, dressed in full military garb, a black Flak vest strapped across her chest, her hair tied back in a pony tail. She cradled a Mp5K in her arms, with a Desert Eagle strapped to her hip. She stopped on the first landing and cocked her head at me oddly.  
  
" Strange." Maria Leone' said. " We were just about to charge the Vercetti Estate. She continued her way down the steps and stood right in front of me. she raised her Submachine gun.  
  
And she dropped it, the weapon clattered to the fllor. She put her hands behind her head and said; " You win Fido."  
  
I smirked and raised my assault rifle but then  
  
Click  
  
The sound of a gun's Safety clicking off, and a cold gun barrel pressed against my right temple.  
  
" Drop it." Said the hit man I had taken hostage a bit ago. He still looked like a mess, his foot wrapped in blood soaked bandages and his face mashed up real good. I sighed and threw my rifle across the room, then I dropped my bag on the floor. " Well." Maria said unholstering her magnum. " Seems the tables have turned." She put the gun to my forehead. " Wait" I said. " Before you kill me Maria, I want your hit man here to tell me how he escaped from Ruebens.  
  
I heard a gun de-cock, and the Hitman walked around to face me with a Colt Officer's model in hand. " Really simple, you friend Lance left my guns on the box next to me, same with my switch blade. I cut through the ropes and shot Paul in the head when he wasn't looking." He finished, but as soon as he did I heard a whir of helicopter blades on the roof.  
  
" Wyant, our ride is here." Piped up Maria. " Let's get this over with and leave."  
  
Wyant, the Hitman nodded and pulled the trigger.  
  
BAM!  
  
I flinched as Wyant's gun flew from his hand and landed on the floor, skidding to a stop on the opposite wall. I looked over to my right seeing Lance Vance holding a smoking 9mm, he was dressed in S.W.A.T garb I was in shock as a platoon of Mario's appeared at the front door, MP5's and Shotguns aimed at Maria and her hired help's head.  
  
" IT'S THE FUZZ! RUN!" she screamed. I saw her throw something in the air. She grabbed Wyant by the arm, the thing she threw landed on the floor with a thud. It was a puck of sorts, with a pin missing.  
  
Damn  
  
I ducked and covered my head as the flash bang grenade blew and A brilliant flash strobed the main hall of the mansion, throwing Lance and his disguised team against the walls. I looked up to see Wyant being hauled by Maria at the very top of the steps. I picked up my bag, pulling out the shotgun from it and took pursuit. The door at the top of the steps led into a small dimly light hallway, the door itself must have been hidden behind the large portrait behind the top landing of the steps. At the end of the narrow hall was a small lift, which had finished its ascent, seeing as it was just coming down. I slung the bag around my shoulder and ran down the hallway. I clambered on the small elevator and hit the control switch. The lift made it's ascent, glimpses of light flashed from holes cut into the elevator shaft. Then it reached the top.  
  
It was a large helipad, built on top of the mansion. The lift led up into a small concrete housing. I stepped out from the housing and was awestruck by the view. I could see vice city stretch as far as the eye could see. Red lights, built into the concrete on the perimeter of the pad shone brightly enough against the sun washed Landing pad. I heard a whirring noise and looked up. A large Apache' type military helicopter with missles was circling the helipad, the door on the side opened and Maria leaned out sitting on the floor of the 'copter. In her lap she cradled an M60 machine gun.  
  
Damn.  
  
In the middle on the pad stood Wyant, defiantly wielding two MP5K's.  
  
" NO ONE TO WATCH YOU BACK NOW! EH FIDO?" Maria screamed down at me from the helicopter. I lunged behind the housing as The Hitman and my Ex fired down upon me. Bullets smacked into the concrete, the housing would hold much longer, as heavy shells from the Machine gun and 9mm's crumbled the concrete away. I had to wait for it. And then the shooting stopped as Wyant begun to reload. I spun around from behind the housing and saw the Hitman looking up at Maria in the Chopper.  
  
" IT WAS NICE TO HAVE YOU AS HIRED HELP WYANT!" She roared. " BUT I DON"T NEED YOU ANYMORE!"  
  
The Helicopter fired at the base of the helipad, the rockets hit their mark bending the steel rafters supporting the pad. It shuddered but didn't fall.  
  
" HAH!" Wyant shot back defiantly at Maria. But he spoke too soon. Maria fired two more missiles at the base, with a loud snap the support rafters gave and the pad toppled to the left. I flailed my arms around reaching for something but found nothing and fell on my gut, sliding againts the concrete. My hands found the metal railing that ran along the outside of the helipad and grabbed it. I was hanging a good 50 feet off the ground, when a second later the Hitman came tumbling down and grabbed the railing next to me with one hand. His other hand I saw was torn to shit.  
  
He looked at me helplessly, I looked away grimly. Maria fired two more rockets, metal broke and gave way along with concrete and we tumbled into the ocean.  
  
We hit the water with a loud SMACK! The weight of the steel enforced structure dragging us down. I hit the floor of the ocean, and luckily I had held my breath. Wyant was a bit more unfortunate.  
  
His legs were pinned under a large piece of concrete. I swam over to him and checked his pulse, faintly it was beating. I tried lifting the slab off of him but to now avail it did not work. Then I saw a MP5K still slung over his shoulder. I pulled it away from Hitman's limp body and pulled the bolt back. I pulled the trigger and let loose a barrage of bullets into the slab. The gun rattle muted by the water pressure. The concrete loosened up a bit and started to give way. I threw the empty submachine gun away and took a piece of metal railing, smashing it into the weakened piece of concrete. I crumbled away and the slab was easier to lift. I pushed it away and lifted Wyant up. Then made for the surface.  
  
I broke the surface gasping for breath. A police boat drove up to us, and the 3 cops inside it pulled us out of the water. I heard the sounds of helicopter blades whir away. I wasn't going to let Maria get away. I still had my gun bag with me, its water tight and dry as a bone inside. I pulled a Mac 11 out as the cops were trying to resusitate Wyant. I aimed it at them.  
  
" DROP IT!" Screamed a pudgy reaching for his sidearm. I fired it into the air. They stopped reaching for their guns.  
  
" If you try anything, I will smoke you." I said. I then motioned to Wyant. " I drop you off at a Jetty close to the hospital, you take him there and leave me the boat."  
  
The cops back off and allowed me the boat. I dropped them off, at the docks where an ambulance was waiting to take Wyant away. They then got out of the speeder and I took off. I saw Maria's chopper in the sky over head. I needed a plan to get her out of the sky. And then I noticed the twin machine guns on the front of the boat. I fired them at the chopper. The hit the bottom, not making a scratch. The chopper did a 180, still going forward and Maria returned fire to me.  
  
Then I saw it. The leaf links bridge, and Maria's chopper heading straight for it. I sped up, the helicopter sped up. Maria was still firing madly at me not noticing my plan until.  
  
BOOM!  
  
The 'Copter smacked into the side of the, wrapping around it. Metal and glass made breaking and snapping noises until it stopped and hung limply from the bridge. Maria started helplessly at me, tangled in the mess. A power line on the bridge snapped and hit the blades of the chopper. Which exploded in a fireball.  
  
KA-BOOM!  
  
I zoomed out of the other side of the bridge with flames at my heels and looked behind me. The part of the bridge that got hit, crumbled away into the ocean. I spat at the wreckage and whispered " Dumb Bitch". I gunned the boat's engine and roared away.  
  
TO BE CONCLUDED 


	14. The Aftermath

The Land Of Vice  
  
A/n: Well it looks to be the final chapter of The land of Vice. So like they say, all good things must come to an end.( Audience boo's, one man states that I "Suck") now don't be so down trodden. Be sure to Expect a special bonus chapter to this story, what I like to call dvd features. And also all stories should have sequels right? Be sure to expect those VERY soon.  
  
The Land Of Vice Chapter 14: The After Math  
  
Since when I had come to Vice City shit HAS happened. I blew up half of it, shot up some of it and even got a little payback. I gained new allies, made some more enemies and lost a friends or two in the process.  
  
I had originally came to Vice City to pursue a dream to own Liberty City. But now Liberty city is all in the past. I can't leave The Land of Vice now. My Uncle's empire is in shambles, Lance will need someone to help control it. I'm still looking for eightball. And plus I'm smart enough not to go back to Liberty, seeing as everyone wants my head on a silver platter. So I figured I'd go ahead, you know settle down south till things cool down a bit up north.  
  
Vice City though wasn't very safe anymore either. The Mayor pretty much had put this burg under EXTREME Marshall law. Soldiers patrolled the streets, police conducted hourly raids on the seediest of all places. Yet they never touch the Vercetti estate. Why? They know how powerful Tommy Vercetti is. They know they have nothing on him, so they forgot all about little old me. Vice city quieted down a bit after 1989. But now half of it's connecting bridges broke in two. Looters rioted and looted all over town, even Prawn island. It was a warzone.  
  
My uncle was still in coma, but they said he had a good chance of getting out of it. So Lance did what Rosenburg told him and took over the empire. He started to re-organize it and gather some followers, felt like a war was brewing. I never liked Rosenburg that much, he was a coke head and snorted more than Michelle Phifer did in Brian De Plama's " Scarface". He was usually found hanging around the mansion " Hopped Up" on crack and being chased by invisible fuzzy bunnies, also thinking he was Al Capone. I had to slap him across the face once for being a total ass wipe. He looked hurt.  
  
" What the heck are you doing?" I asked him when I slapped him. " My Uncle, my own flesh and blood is in a coma and you think your top of the world! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU CRACKHEAD!"  
  
Like a wounded rabbit he walked away sullenly with his head hung low. I shook my head and went back to watching TV.  
  
It wasn't till 2 weeks after the Prawn Island war was that I realized I still had one of the guns Tommy gave me. I puled out the black case from my duffel bag full of clothes I brought from Liberty and snapped it open. The Silver Colt .45 shone up from me from the gray packing foam along with one magazine. I picked it up and tested the weight, pretty heavy unlike the Glock 18 and Berreta he also had bought me, but it had an upside. The grip was conformed to a hand for easier handling. I slammed the loaded clip in and pulled the slide back chambering a round. The gun had nice balance, with weights to reduce recoil. I Remembered what the Goth clerk in ammunation had said about this gun, when Tommy bought it for me. Used by Diaz, a Colombian drug lord in 1986 when he shot out his VCR. I had found that same VCR in a storage closet in the basement, a few well placed rounds still imbedded in the face along a copy of "Buisiness before Pleasure" Starring Mercedes Cortez jammed in the slot. The gun was used the same yeah by a corrupt Pastor who shot a Nudist, on a region wide radio debate show. I smirked and stuck the Gat into my belt.  
  
I had never changed my pants when I arrived in Vice. My same old cargo pants were now slightly more beaten and burned. yet still good. I abandoned my Black button up shirt, seeing as it was torn to crap so I wore my under tank top around the house. My old bomber style jacket, riddled with a few bullet holes, still hung in the guest room closet among various Hawaiin t- shirts. It was too hot in Vice to wear.  
  
I had never found out what happened to Wyant. I went to every hospital in Vice looking for him, never finding him. I figured he wasn't dead, they said there was no record of a Wyant admitted to the hospitals or the obiturarys. Perhaps he was under another name? It had baffled me why I saved his live, I guess it was some type of reaction.  
  
One day Lance called me into Tommy's office. He sat behind the large desk, filing Asset revenues with Ken. A S&W 9mm lay next to his record books he was writing in. he notice me come in and looked up.  
  
" So, Mike." He said. " How long are planning to stay in Vice?"  
  
" Till Tommy comes out of his Coma." I said unsuringly. Lance nodded. " Well seeing as you a Vercetti, I deem it wise you help run the buisiness with me." he said reaching into the desk. He pulled out a cell phone, a new one mind you. A small compact silver one. I flipped it open and close.  
  
" That contains the names, phone numbers and addresses of Clients, Buisinesses, and allies." He said looking down to his record books. " Now your gunna help us file these revnue changes."  
  
I smiled and pulled up a chair. "Welcome to Vice city Fido." I said to myself. " Welcome to Vice City."  
  
THE END 


End file.
